


Clean

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Charmed, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drug Addiction, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lies, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Past Drug Use, Past Relationship(s), Pregnancy, Rehabilitation, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 51,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2533463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester fell hard for Melinda Halliwell when they were in high school. Life got in the way, secrets threatened to tear them apart, and Dean's self-destructive behavior finally became too much for Melinda. She leaves, and Dean hits his lowest point. After months in rehab, he leaves, and somehow ends up on her doorstep. But is the past too much for them to overcome? Not to mention the secrets they still hold...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first official post here. I've read TONS of stories on this site, and I finally joined myself. I hope you enjoy my story, and I'd love to hear from you.
> 
> This story was inspired by another story I read on this site, "You and I" by Fatebegins. That story is SO GOOD, and it got my little creative mind to thinking of writing a story of my own. And that's where this story came from. 
> 
> The characters are not my original creation, except for one. Recognizable characters belong to their respective shows and writers. I am simply borrowing them for my story and my own personal enjoyment. And hopefully, yours. :)
> 
> Please drop me a comment, review, or message! I appreciate it, and hope you like this story!!

This was a bad idea.

He’d known that from the beginning, but he’d kept telling himself differently, pretending that he was doing the right thing.

Even now, in his fever-addled brain, he believed that.

He sniffled, blinking his eyes and opening them wide. That, of course, was useless in the swirling snow. He pulled his dad’s old leather jacket tighter around him, again regretting the fact that he didn’t have a warmer coat. Well, he might have one, back in the car. But his car was buried in a snow bank half a mile back, refusing to budge after it had slid off the slick road. The gleaming black of the hood was now covered in white, definitely more so now than it had been an hour ago when he’d finally decided to try his luck at walking. 

He hated the mountains. 

Especially now, when the wind felt as though it were slapping his face with ice, sharp shards of sleet mixed in with the snow pelting his skin and leaving a burning sensation behind. His eyes were watering, and he was sweating beneath his t-shirt, which only caused him to shiver harder. Surely there had to be someone out here, someone who could find him and take him somewhere warm. Or maybe he’d stumble upon a cabin, and some kindhearted soul would take him in.

Wishful thinking, he knew. And wishing had never done him a damn bit of good, anyway.

He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling akin to jamming nails down his throat, and when he swallowed, it was like swallowing jagged glass. He could feel his heartbeat in his skull, and every time he took a step or breathed, pain coursed through his body. 

He wasn’t sure if he believed in God, hadn’t really been shown anything in his life that proved the existence of a loving, benevolent Higher Power. But he was praying right then, hoping Someone was listening and could point him in the direction of warmth and comfort. He stumbled, hitting his knees in the snow, feeling the coldness seep through his jeans and settle into his bones.  
He was going to die out here.

He wasn’t afraid of death. Never had been. It was just a natural part of life, something that everyone had to face, whether they liked it or not, whether they were ready for it or not.

He just wasn’t ready. 

He tried to stand, stumbling again, falling into the snow again and again before he finally gave up. He let out a ragged breath, wincing in pain as it felt like he was breathing in jagged shards of glass again. He looked up, unable to see through the snow, and he felt the fight leave him.

The last thing on his mind, the last thing that was always on his mind, was a sweet smile, crystal blue eyes, the honey-colored hair of the woman he loved.

The woman he’d driven away.


	2. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What the hell is that bastard doing here?"

Melinda Halliwell set another log on the fire, standing up and laying her hands on her lower back, pushing gently as she pulled her shoulders back. She laid a hand on her swollen belly, letting out a breath as she glanced out the window at the swirling snow. She shivered a bit, pulling her sweater closer around her, sliding her socked feet into her slippers as she walked to the couch. She picked up the thick, heated blanket, pulling it back around her as she went to sit down.

And she froze halfway there as she heard the knock at the door.

She glanced to the clock on the mantle, shaking her head. No one ever knocked on her door, especially not in weather like this. It took her a minute, as was the case lately, but she stood up and walked to the door, going on her tiptoes to glance out the octagon-shaped window in the heavy front door. No one even came this far out to see her, except for …

“Benny?”

She opened the door, gasping at the blast of artic air that found its way inside. Benny Lafitte stepped in, bundled up, holding a bundled up something in his big arms. Melinda hurriedly pushed the door shut, looking over as Benny shook his entire body, a lot like a dog would, snow flying from his shoulders. He looked over, eyes so blue and bright they were almost clear focused on Melinda. She stepped over, going up on her tiptoes, and Benny bent his head to meet her as she pulled the scarf from around his nose and mouth.

“What in God’s name are you doing out in this?”  
“Checking to make sure idiots like this one weren’t stuck out there.”   
“What?”

Melinda looked to Benny’s arms, realizing the bundle he carried was a person.

“My God! The living room. I’ve got a fire going. There’s a heated blanket on the couch.”

Benny hurried to the living room, and Melinda followed behind him, as quickly as she could with the extra weight she was currently carrying. She watched Benny kneel down, as close to the fire as he could safely be. He set his bundle down in a sitting position, beginning to unwrap it.

“I found him about a mile from here. Your place was closer or I would have taken him to mine.”   
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Is he all right?”

Benny sighed, shaking his head.

“I don’t think so. This one’s bad off, Mel.”   
“Frozen?”   
“And sick.”

She nodded.

“Let me see what I’ve got. Get him warm, Benny.”

He nodded as she left the room, going back to unwrapping.

“Come on now, brother. Stay with me.”

Melinda came back in as Benny was rubbing the man’s hands between his own. Melinda grabbed the blanket from the couch, unplugging it as she walked up behind the man. She draped the blanket over his shoulders, hearing the exhale he gave. She looked wide blue eyes to Benny.

“He sounds horrible.”

Benny nodded.

“He’s hot as hell, but he’s frozen, too.”   
“Crap. He should be in a hospital.”   
“Well, darlin’, do you want to drive or should I?”

Melinda punched Benny’s shoulder, making him laugh. She rolled her eyes and he reached up, taking her hand.

“You’re the best thing he could get right now anyway.”

Melinda sighed, pulling her hand back.

“Thank you. But I’m not a doctor, Benny. You know that.”  
“Close enough.”

She shook her head, smiling as she moved forward, laying a hand on Benny’s shoulder. She had her bag in her hand as she finally got a look at the man’s face.

Benny glanced over as he heard the sound of Melinda’s bag falling onto the ground, the contents spilling out onto the floor. His eyes went wide, looking up, immediately going to his feet when he saw the look on Melinda’s face, the way she went pale.

“Darlin’, hey. What? What is it?”

He took hold of her arms, and she looked to him, eyes wide.

“Where did you find him?”   
“About a mile from here. Seemed like he’d come quite a ways.”

Melinda swallowed. Benny’s eyebrows drew together.

“What is it, Mel? Talk to me.”   
“That …”

She took her eyes away from the man lying in front of the fireplace to look at Benny again.

“Benny, that’s Dean.”

* * *

 

Benny shook his head, hands around his steaming cup of coffee.

“So Dean Winchester is here.”

Melinda nodded from her place at the counter. Benny laid his hands on top of the table, shaking his head again.

“What the hell is that bastard doing here?”   
“Benny.”

He looked to her, finally giving in and closing his eyes, letting out a sigh.

“I thought he was in rehab or something.”

Melinda shrugged her shoulders.

“Last I heard, he was. That was months ago, though.”   
“I thought you said you were in contact with … who was it? His brother?”

Melinda nodded.

“Sam and I talk, and so do Bobby and I.”   
“And Bobby is Dean’s …?”   
“Uncle. Surrogate father.”   
“And they haven’t said anything about him?”   
“We’ve all gotten into a pattern of sidestepping conversation about Dean.”

Benny let out a sigh, shaking his head.

“I’ll pack him up, take him to my place.”   
“What? No.”   
“He doesn’t need to be here. You don’t need that.”   
“Benny, you can’t take him back out in this. Not as sick as he is.”   
“Well, you don’t need this kind of stress, Mel. You know that.”

Melinda sighed, rubbing a hand on her belly.

“I know. I just … He needs to stay here. I can take care of him, and as soon as the roads clear, we can get him to a hospital.”   
“Mel…”   
“If you make a supply run, let me know, please? There’s a few things at the clinic I could use for him.”

Benny sighed, brushing a hand over his dark blonde hair. Melinda smiled at him until he blew out a breath.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. Benny nodded back, getting to his feet.

“I’m just a phone call away, you know that, right?”

She nodded again, and Benny sighed.

“Anything happens, I can be here in five minutes.”   
“I know. Thank you, Benny.”

He nodded, letting out a breath as he pulled her into his arms, smiling when he felt the baby move between them. He kissed her forehead, then went and began to bundle up again. Melinda followed him into the living room, rubbing on her stomach, watching Dean as he slept on the couch. Benny zipped his jacket up, wrapping his scarf around his neck as he walked to her.

“Do you want me to move him somewhere?”

She shook her head.

“No, I’ll just keep him here by the fire.”   
“And what about you? Where will you be?”

She smiled up at him.

“We sleep better in the chair, anyway.”

Benny sighed.

“You need anything, anything at all, you call me, all right? I don’t care what time it is. If that jackoff needs to go to the bathroom and can’t walk by himself, don’t you dare try and help him. Call me and I’ll do it.”   
“Benny—“   
“I’m serious, damn it. Don’t you do anything that could hurt you.”   
“I won’t.”   
“Promise me.”

Melinda let out a breath.

“I promise. I will call you the second I need you.”

Benny let out a breath. He glared at the sofa for a moment, then leaned to kiss Melinda on the forehead once more before he wrapped the scarf around his nose, pulling the hat down where only his eyes were visible. He walked to the door, turning around and looking at Melinda once more. She gave him a smile.

“Be careful.”

He nodded to her, opening the door and hurrying out, pulling the door closed behind him. A blast of icy wind still drifted in, and Melinda walked back to the living room, standing in front of the fire for a moment to warm back up. She smiled at the pile of wood that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, along with the new logs on the fire that seemed set to burn for hours. She walked to the couch, taking a seat on the edge, leaning over to lay her hand on Dean’s forehead. He murmured in his sleep, turning closer to her touch and she sighed.

“Oh, Dean. What are you doing here?”


	3. Whispers and Dreams

He’s got to be dead.

That’s the only explanation Dean can think of. He’s warm, for the first time in what feels like forever. He still feels like crap though, which is throwing him off. Isn’t everything supposed to be better in heaven? Or maybe he’s not in heaven …

That would make more sense.

But it wouldn’t explain the angel.

Every now and then, Dean feels a cool cloth as it is pressed to his face. It comes to rest on his neck as a gentle hand brushes across his forehead. He wants to say something, wants to open his eyes, but he just can’t. He’s so tired. He doesn’t feel the needle sticks, the swabs as they’re pressed down his throat. He sleeps through it, and the IV insertion into the crook of his arm. He sleeps through the breathing treatments, and doesn’t remember the coughing spells that follow. He remembers soft words being whispered to him (even if he doesn’t remember specifics), those gentle touches. It sparks something in his memory, and he dreams of happier times, of the beautiful woman he usually dreams of. This time, she’s not crying. This time, he’s not ruining both their lives.

No, this time, she’s happy. She’s smiling as he holds her. She cries, but they’re happy tears. They have the entire world at their fingertips, dreams as big and bright as the world around them. And this time, in his dreams, they can all come true.

He hopes he never wakes up.

* * *

 

Melinda wakes up suddenly, at the feel of a hard kick to her side. She lets out a breath, rubbing her stomach.

“Easy, kid.”

She yawns as she pulls the blanket from around her, pushing the recliner back to a sitting position. She looked over to the couch, letting out a breath. She stands to her feet, coming to sit on the edge of the couch, the same way she’s been doing for the past three days.

Dean is sweating.

She lets out a sigh of relief, laying her hand against his cheek.

“Thank God.”

She gets the thermometer, slipping it under his tongue without him ever feeling. It beeps, and she nearly cries in relief when she sees the number. Nearly three degrees lower than it was the last time she checked it, before she fell asleep. She laughs quietly, shaking her head as she pushes to her feet and walks to the kitchen. She fixes her tea in near-silence, quietly singing to herself, jumping almost out of her skin when she hears the static from the CB radio Benny installed in her kitchen. She laid a hand over her heart as she walked over to it, letting out a long breath.

_“Breaker one-nine, this is Swamp Rat. Mama Bear, do you copy?”_

Melinda shook her head, letting out another breath as she picked up the receiver.

“Benny, you scared the hell out of me.”

His laughter filled the line.

 _“Sorry, darlin’. How’s Mr. Comatose doing?”_   
“His fever’s going down, finally. It hasn’t broken yet, but I’ve got high hopes for today.”   
_“And how are you and your little tagalong?”_

Melinda smiled, rubbing a hand over her stomach.

“Just fine. 32 weeks today. My little coconut, now.”   
_“Hey, congratulations!”_

Melinda laughed.

“You’re okay?”   
_“Just fine, darlin’. I was thinking about making a run into town. Supposed to get hit with another storm by tomorrow afternoon. You need anything?”_   
“Yes, actually. Could you stop by and I’ll give you a list?”   
_“Of course. See you in an hour?”_   
“Sounds good, Swamp Rat.”

Benny’s laugh filled the line.

_“It’s a go then, Mama Bear. Swamp Rat out.”_

Melinda shook her head as she switched off the radio. She rubbed a hand over her swollen belly, walking into the living room to see that Dean had kicked his covers off. Melinda smiled, walking over and smoothing her hand over his hair. Like he always did, he leaned into her touch. Melinda closed her eyes, letting her hand fall as she walked over to the deck, popping open the window, shivering at the sudden burst of cold. She scooped a handful of snow into the washcloth she’d been using, closing the window back and walking to the fire. The snow quickly melted, warming the washcloth just a little bit. She walked back to the couch, sitting on the edge and pressing the cloth to Dean’s forehead. He gave a quiet moan, and Melinda gently shushed him, moving the cloth over his cheeks, pressing it just under his jaw. She was surprised when his eyes fluttered open, still hazed over due to the fever. He looked at her for just a moment, eyes closing again as he drifted back to sleep.

Right after whispering her name.

She froze, with the cloth still in her hand, still pressed against his neck. She swallowed, moving the cloth to rest on his throat, listening to him breathe, sounding nowhere near as horrible as he had when Benny first arrived with him in tow. She shook her head, standing to her feet, stretching her back as she picked up the blanket, draping it back over him before she walked back to her chair, sitting down, pulling her feet under her as best she could. She kept rubbing her hand over her belly, staring over at Dean.

Did he know where he was? That he was with her? Or did he just normally say her name in his sleep?

Melinda pushed her hands through her hair, stretching her legs out, pulling the blanket back around her. She watched Dean, as he turned just a bit, sinking under the covers. She looked up and saw that he still had plenty of fluids in his IV bag, and there was still enough oxygen in the tank to last him a while. She tried not to let it, but she knew she couldn’t fight it anymore. She’d tried, ever since he showed up on her porch in Benny’s arms. But now, watching him sleep on her couch, she let herself drift back, to what seemed like a lifetime ago.


	4. Hello

_Ten Years Ago_

“Winchester. Dean Winchester.”

She looked up, over the rim of her glasses. _Crap_. HE was standing in front of her. Dean _freakin_ ’ Winchester. She blinked her big blue eyes, and the smirk on his face grew into a real smile. He set the bag on his shoulder down, leaning over, resting his forearms on the table. She swallowed as he leaned even closer.

“Melinda, right?”

She nodded, and he smiled wider, showing his perfect white teeth. He said her name again, almost like he liked the way it sounded.

“We have biology together, don’t we?”

She nodded again, hating herself. A cute guy appears and suddenly, her voice doesn’t work? Oh, who was she kidding? “Cute” is not the word that can be used to describe Dean Winchester. Handsome. Gorgeous, even. He’d passed “cute” a long time ago. He looked down at his hands, then back to her, and she was taken aback by just how green his eyes were. She was trying to decide if the color was emeralds or summer grass when he spoke again, shocking her back to reality.

“Do you … You got a lab partner yet?”

Blue eyes were almost comically wide.

“What?”

Dean smiled.

“She speaks.”

Melinda felt her cheeks heat up. Dean laughed quietly, then spoke again.

“I was wondering if you’d want to be my lab partner.”  
“You … You’re asking me? Seriously?”

Something flashed in those beautiful green eyes, just for a moment. Dean tilted his head to the side, that smile breaking out across his face again.

“You mean to tell me someone hasn’t snatched you up yet?”

Melinda’s cheeks burned as she looked down at the paper in front of her, shaking her head. Dean reached out one finger, placing it under her chin and pressing up until she was looking at him again, eyes huge.

“Then say yes.”

Melinda swallowed.

“Okay.”

The smirk was back, and he let his hand fall.

“Okay, then. I’ll see you after lunch.”

Melinda nodded, watching as Dean smiled, taking the sheet of paper she clutched in her hand, letting their fingers touch for what seemed like forever. He gave her a wink, picking his bag up, tossing it over his shoulder as he walked into the booth behind the table. When she heard the pull of the curtain, she let out a breath, looking over to see the girl at the desk with her staring at her, her dark brown eyes wide.

“That was Dean Winchester.”  
“I know.”  
“Dean freakin’ Winchester!”  
“I know.”

Melinda glanced behind her, at the booth where the curtain was closed. The girl tugged on her sleeve, and Melinda turned back. What was her name again? Melinda swallowed as she glanced down at her sheet, then sighed. Lacie. That was the girl. Lacie Tyson. Lacie leaned closer, voice barely above a whisper.

“What did he want?”

Melinda shook her head.

“Oh, come on. Hottest guy in school talks to one of us, it’s a big deal.”

Melinda smiled. Interesting choice of words. She glanced over at Lacie, who was watching her with expectant eyes. Melinda let out a sigh, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes.

“He wants to be my lab partner.”  
“Shut up.”

Melinda’s eyes flew open, and Lacie let out a laugh.

“I didn’t… Sorry. I didn’t say ‘shut up’ to mean shut up. It’s just a thing I say.”

Melinda smiled back, looking up as more people came walking into the gym. She blew out her breath as she slid her glasses back on.

“Whose bright idea was it to have elections on the first freaking day of school?”

Lacie just laughed, picking up her highlighter.

“At least we get extra credit for it.”  
“You do have a point.”

Melinda let out a sigh as she flipped one of her pages, looking towards the bottom of the page, finding and highlighting Dean Winchester’s name. She knew Lacie saw her, and Melinda sighed as she turned her head, watching as Lacie’s mouth opened, then snapped shut, dark eyes going wide at something behind Melinda’s head. Melinda turned in her chair and gasped. Dean was standing right there, as close as he could get, and Melinda could feel his breath on her face as he spoke to her.

“So, I’ll see you after lunch?”

Melinda swallowed as she nodded, and Dean smiled as he nodded, walking away backwards. He lifted a hand, pointing at Melinda.

“Don’t forget!”

She nodded, swallowing again.

“Holy shit.”

Melinda turned in her chair, eyes wide as she looked to Lacie, whose eyes were just as wide, shaking her head slightly as she watched Dean leave. Melinda turned forward in her chair, meeting the wide eyes of the juniors in front of her, noticing the way the gym had suddenly fallen silent. Melinda let out a sigh, moving her glasses to rub at her eyes again.

“Awesome. Just great.”

Lacie shook her head, coming back to reality, and turned forward, noticing the kids just standing there. She cleared her throat.

“All right, people. Show’s over. Let’s get back on track. Name?”

The noise began to pick up again in the gym, and Melinda blew out her breath. She leaned over, whispering where only Lacie could hear her.

“Thanks.”  
“No problem. I expect to hear all about this though, all right?”

Melinda smiled as she nodded, reaching for her highlighter and marking off a name. Her hand only shook a tiny bit this time.

* * *

 

“So Dean Winchester is going to be your lab partner?”

Melinda let out a groan.

“Seriously? Does the whole school know?”

Jo Harvelle smiled as she crunched on a carrot.

“Girl, news like that? Of course the whole school knows.”

Melinda pillowed her arms on the table and dropped her head onto them with a groan. Jo just giggled, reaching over and patting Melinda’s back.

“There, there. Just because the hottest guy in school, the quarterback of the football team, the one with the ass to die for has decided you’re the one—“  
“To be his lab partner! Christ, Harvelle. I’m not marrying the guy. We’re just going to do homework and dissect … things.”

Jo shook her head, with a wide smile on her face.

“Mark my words. You will be Mrs. Dean Winchester, and one day soon.”

Melinda sighed, rubbing at her temples, at the headache that seemed to have settled there.

“You can mark my words, Joanna Beth. The only reason Dean Winchester is having anything to do with me is so I can get him an A in biology.”

Jo smiled, shaking her head again as she popped another carrot in her mouth.

“Just make me a bridesmaid, all right?”

Melinda groaned as she rolled her eyes. She was dreading going to biology. That little flutter in the pit of her stomach was something other than excitement.

Wasn’t it?


	5. Same Old, But New

“Don’t freak out, darlin’. It’s just me. Come on, now. Wake up.”

Melinda blinked her eyes open slowly, to see bright blue eyes smiling back at her. Benny spoke just as softly.

“There we go. Sleeping Beauty’s back with us.”

Melinda smiled around a yawn.

“Shut up, Benny.”

She pushed his shoulder, and he just smiled, holding out his hands and helping her up from the chair. She let out a quiet breath when she was standing up, placing her hands against her lower back and stretching out.

“You okay?”

She smiled again.

“Just fine. Carrying a baby is hell on your back.”   
“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind for my next go-round.”

Benny laughed as she punched his arm. She laid her hand on his shoulder, pointing towards the kitchen.

“Come on. The list is in here.”

He followed her into the kitchen, where she picked the paper up from the counter and handed it to him. He skimmed over it, nodding his head.

“The breathing treatment machine isn’t big, right?”   
“No, it’s practically handheld. Should be in a little box by my desk.”

Benny nodded, watching with a smile as Melinda let out a breath as she sat on a barstool, gently rubbing a hand over her swollen belly. Benny looked back to the list, smiling over the mention of pickles and chocolate ice cream.

“You do know it’s less than zero degrees outside, right?”   
“It’s the baby. Can’t tell him or her anything.”

Benny laughed.

“I’ll grab some stuff and teach you how to make snow cream. It’ll change your life.”

Melinda smiled, lacing her hands together over her belly.

“Sounds good.”

Benny folded the list and slipped it into his pocket.

“All right. I’ll have my phone, just in case.”

Melinda nodded.

“Anything else you can think of that you might need?”   
“I think I put it all on the list.”   
“And what about for the baby?”

Melinda shook her head, and Benny smiled.

“Anything he or she may need from the diner if I decide to drop by?”

Melinda stopped, shaking her head very slowly.

“Not even a slice of pecan-praline pie?”   
“They have it?”

Melinda sat up, dropping her hands to the handles on the barstool. 

“Called and made sure this morning.”

Melinda laid a hand on her belly.

“Oh, Benny.”

He let out a laugh.

“The baby needs it, right?”

She nodded, and he laughed again.

“Then it is Uncle Benny to the rescue. Stay warm.”   
“I will.”   
“I’ll refill the firewood when I get back.”

She nodded again, taking the hands he offered as she stood up. Benny smiled, and Melinda walked behind him as he made his way to the door. He stopped and turned around with his hand on the doorknob.

“If you need me for anything—“   
“I will call you, I promise. Now, I can’t miss you if you don’t leave, so go.”

Benny flashed her a smile, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek before pulling his scarf back up over his nose. He opened the door, pulling it shut quickly behind him. Melinda shivered at the cold air, watching until Benny was gone. She sighed, walking back over to the couch. Dean was resting so peacefully she was afraid to disturb him. She draped a blanket back over him, standing back and watching when he didn’t stir. She waited until she saw his chest rise and fall a few times before she walked back over to the chair. She draped the blanket over her legs after she propped them up, then leaned down beside the chair and picked up her current project.

She’d started knitting right after she moved into the mountains. She’d taken the job at the clinic in town, because they had been desperate for a nurse practitioner. The little old ladies had taken to her immediately, and every time one of them had an appointment, they’d bring her something. Mrs. Johnson brought her the bright pink hat she’d knitted. Mrs. Brown had given her that beautiful rainbow scarf. Once the ladies discovered she was pregnant, Mrs. Laramie gave her the baby blanket she’d crocheted. Yellow, of course, since she didn’t know the gender. (According to old Mrs. Freeman though, it was a girl. To which the other old Mrs. Freeman insisted it was a boy. They never agreed on anything.) One day, when Melinda thought she just couldn’t bear one more second, Mrs. June Breeland walked into her office. She’d taken one look at Melinda and the next thing she knew, she was sitting in the little lady’s living room, a pair of needles in her hand, and Mrs. June patiently teaching her the basic stitches.

Melinda smiled as she held up the blanket, giving in to the vanity and admiring her own handiwork. She set the blanket back in her lap, picking up the needles and beginning to knit the next row. This blanket was bright, happy, and she couldn’t help but smile as she made it. Benny had found the brightest pink yarn he could, along with a pale pink and a shade darker than lavender purple. This was the girliest blanket Melinda had ever seen, and she was half-tempted to just continue knitting it, making it large enough for herself to wrap up in. But she had a plan, and she’d add this blanket to the royal blue, green, and sky blue one she’d already finished, and whatever baby she ended up having would have the perfect blanket. She glanced over at Dean, praying that his fever would break, and while she transformed the yarn into a blanket, she thought about the dream she'd had during her impromptu nap earlier.

Dean had been so handsome. Quarterback of the football team, so handsome, and the bad boy attitude that made all the girls swoon, Melinda included. She soon learned that there was more to meet the eyes with him, and as she competently transformed the yarn into a blanket, she let her mind drift back, to her senior year of high school ten years earlier.


	6. Roll Me Back In Time

_Ten Years Ago_

The first day of biology was nearly insufferable. Melinda wanted nothing more than to crawl under the lab table and just die. It didn’t help matters any the way Dean would just smile that smile, stretching out his arms, draping one over the back of her chair. She could hear the snickers from all around them as she felt her cheeks burn.

By the third day, Melinda was tired of it. It seemed like all the kids had nothing better to do than to watch Dean make her nervous, the way he’d lean in so close, right in her face, like his sole purpose in life was to make her blush.

By Friday, she’d had enough. When Dean leaned in, breathily whispering to her about cell division, she slammed her book closed. He jumped back, and the buzz of the classroom ceased completely. Melinda huffed out a breath, making her bangs fluff up off of her forehead, and Dean just stared at her, eyes wide. Even the teacher was quiet, and the silence was shattered by the sound of the final bell. Melinda gathered her books, clutching them to her chest, and was the first one out the door. She packed her bag quickly, pushing through the crowd, letting out a breath when she was hit with fresh air and sunlight. She closed her eyes for a second, then began walking away.

“Hey! Hey, Melinda! Wait!”

She went still, eyes wide, and turned around, aghast to find Dean Winchester jogging up to her.

“Hey, can we—“  
“What do you want?”

He stopped, holding his hands up, palms facing her.

“Whoa. What’s your problem?”  
“What’s my problem? You. **You** are my problem."

He narrowed his eyes as she dropped her bag to the ground, turning to face him.

"Can we be real for a second? Who put you up to this? Is it a bet? I’ll get you an A in bio and you turn me into a swan by prom?”  
“What? No.”  
“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that. Tell me the truth.”

Dean shook his head.

“There’s no bet.”  
“I don’t believe you.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because there’s no possible way someone like you could ever want anything from me except good grades!”

Dean stopped, tilting his head to the side.

“Seriously? That’s what you think this is?”  
“Well, what else could it be?”

Dean watched as she let out a sigh, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Listen, I’ve seen all the movies. I’ve read the books, watched the TV shows, whatever. The gorgeous captain-of-the-football-team jock never wants anything from the nerd except to pass ‘insert whatever subject here.’ Somewhere along the way, the nerd realizes her true beauty, and changes everything about herself to fit in with the jock, and they ride off into the sunset together. Blah, blah, blah.”

Dean pursed his lips together and nodded. Melinda let out a sigh, bending down to gather her bag in her hands, sliding it back onto her shoulder.

“I’ll help you with biology. We’ll get an A at the lowest. Just … You don’t need to keep putting on a show for everyone, all right? It’s embarrassing, and I really don’t do well with people talking about me and laughing behind my back. I’ve had enough of that my whole life.”

He didn’t say anything, but it told her all she needed to know. She turned, letting out a sigh as she walked away, leaving Dean alone, watching her leave.

* * *

 

“You’re wrong.”

Melinda looked up from her calculus textbook, blinking as Dean set his bag down on the side of the table opposite her. She hadn’t seen him all weekend, but there was no possible way he got even better looking, right? She blinked again, shaking her head slightly.

“I’m wrong about what?”

Dean motioned from himself to her.

“Us. This … whatever.”  
“There's not really an ‘us,’ Winchester. We’re lab partners.”  
“Okay, then. Our lab partnering. You’re wrong.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“How so?”

Dean stepped over the bench, sitting down across from her. He reached over, closing her calculus book.

“That makes me nervous.”

Melinda smiled, smoothing her hand over the book.

“You make me nervous.”

Her head snapped up at his quiet statement.

“What?”

Dean sighed.

“Look. When we met in the gym that day, the student council elections? I’ll admit, I wanted you to be my lab partner because I knew you were so damn smart that you could get someone as stupid as me a good grade. But that’s not the only reason I asked you.”

She was twisting her hands in her lap, a nervous habit she’d picked up around the second grade. She caught herself and began going through the alphabet in sign language instead.

“What was the other reason?”

Dean sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair.

“If I tell you, you’re not going to believe me.”  
“Oh, come on.”  
“No, you’ll think it’s a line, and I swear it’s not.”

Melinda rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll keep in mind that it’s not a line.”

Dean nodded, letting out a sigh.

“You fascinate me.”  
“Oh my god!”

Melinda leaned back, laughing. Dean couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.

“See? I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”  
“You’re good, Winchester. So good.”  
“I’m being serious, damn it.”

She stopped laughing, putting a smile on her face.

“I fascinate you?”

He nodded.

“Please give me one little inkling as to why I should believe you.”

He smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know. I just know that I can’t take my eyes off of you anytime I see you. I know that every football game I play, I scan the bleachers, hoping you’re there. I’ve been to every play you’ve painted sets for, and let me tell you, the sets were the only good thing about _Oklahoma!_ ”  
“Hey, that’s not fair! Both Curly and Laurey got the stomach flu opening night.”  
”And the best they could come up with was that Lucifer kid and stiff-as-a-board Lilith?”  
“His name was Nick, thank you, and … there was no one else that would do it.”

Dean smiled, and Melinda sat up straighter.

“Wait. You … you saw _Oklahoma!_?”  
“And _Fiddler on the Roof_ , and _Grease_ , and I’m already looking forward to _Hairspray_ this year.”

Melinda looked down at her books. She went to open her mouth, but Dean beat her to it.

“We used to be kind of friends, when we were little, you know? Until middle school, when the damn cliques started. I kind of lost you there for a while.”  
“We moved.”

He met her eyes, and she lifted a shoulder, let it fall.

“My dad got a job in San Francisco, so we went there for a while. When—when Mom died, he wanted to come back here.”  
“I’m sorry. About—about your mom.”

Melinda smiled.

“Thanks.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“My mom died, too. I was really little, though. Sammy was just a baby.”

Melinda smiled. Dean’s brother was a couple of years younger than them. He looked back to her.

“Don’t you have a brother or two?”

Melinda nodded, looking back down at the table as she spoke.

“Chris. He’s two years older than I am, and Wyatt … Wyatt died in the accident with Mom.”

Dean let out a sigh.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“  
“No, it … It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

Dean sighed again.

“I heard you were back in Lawrence at the end of freshman year. I watched you, all last year. And I swear, I don’t mean that as stalkerish as it came out.”

Melinda laughed, and Dean couldn’t help but smile again.

“I told myself that I was going to figure out some way to talk to you this year. So when I saw you, I got Sammy to sneak into the office and pull your schedule.”  
“You snooped my file?”  
“Hey, got you as my lab partner, didn’t it? I bet you didn’t even realize that the first day that I cornered you way before class even started.”

Melinda opened her mouth, then closed it. Dean leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“There, see? No one else bothered with that little detail, either.”  
“You _are_ a stalker.”

Dean laughed, looking up as the bell rang.

“Listen, I’ve got to get to English. Promise me you’ll sit with me at lunch and we can talk some more?”  
“Don’t you have a fan club to sit with?”

Dean smiled, but it was sad. He played it off by rolling his eyes.

“I’d rather sit with you.”

Melinda felt her cheeks heat again, but she nodded.

“Right here?”

Dean smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth.

“It’s a date.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, falling into the crowd, leaving Melinda alone at the table, shaking her head. She gathered up her books and walked inside, just making it into her seat in geography as the late bell rang.

* * *

 

“So he’s fascinated by you.”  
“That’s what he said.”  
“And you bought it?”

Melinda giggled, shaking her head as she moved her geography book aside, picking up a notebook. Lacie was sitting across from her, a notebook in front of her, English book open, but cast aside. The library was quiet, and the librarian was kind of a dragon, so they were whispering.

“I know better. I mean, Dean Winchester?”  
“What did your friend Jo say about him? Quarterback of the football team, hottest guy in school …”  
“’The one with the ass to die for,’ I believe was the direct quote.”

Lacie clamped a hand over her mouth as she laughed.

“Well, she has a point on that. Have you seen him in those football pants?”

Melinda felt her cheeks grow warm as she shook her head. Lacie let her hands rest on the table.

“You _have_ been to a football game, haven’t you?”

Melinda leaned further over the table, writing furiously in her notebook. Lacie blinked, and Melinda finally looked up. Lacie's dark eyes were wide, and she shook her head, her brown ponytail shaking behind her.

“Oh, nope. You’re coming. Friday night, we’re playing … some school, and you and I will be at the field.”  
“Lacie, I’ll have homework.”  
“Yeah, and that’s what weekends are for. Or, you know. Monday mornings. You’re coming.”

Melinda shook her head, opening her mouth, looking up with wide eyes as the bell rang. She looked back to Lacie, whose dark eyes were just as wide.

“It’s lunchtime.”  
“Crap. What if he was just kidding?”  
“Then text me, and I’ll come sit with you.”  
“But he—what … what if he—“  
“Hey.”

Lacie leaned over, laying a hand on Melinda’s arm. Melinda swallowed, looking up at her. The girl smiled gently.

“You don’t have to go, you know. You can sit in the caf with the rest of us peasants.”

Melinda smiled, but nodded slowly.

“I just … I don’t know.”

Lacie smiled. She knew.

“It’s just a lunch date. What could possibly come of it?”


	7. You Put The Load Right On Me

Melinda jolted out of her daydream at the sudden pressure on her bladder. She sighed, dropping her knitting beside the chair and climbing out of it.

“You’re killing me, kid.”

She held a hand under her belly as she walked to the bathroom. After, she made her way back to the living room and set another log on the fire before dousing her hands with sanitizer. She let it dry, then pumped some lotion onto her hands. As she rubbed the lotion in, she walked to the window. Outside, the snow was sparkling under the sunlight. She couldn’t help but smile, the way she usually did when she took the time to stare at the snow. She locked her hands together on top of her belly, smiling as she imagined a little one, thickly bundled up in a snowsuit, uncoordinatedly making snowballs. She imagined building a family of snowmen, and snow angels surrounding the cabin.

She let out a quiet laugh at the gentle nudge she felt against her hands. She unlocked them, spreading her hands over her swollen stomach.

“I can’t wait to meet you. You’ll like it here. It’s cool year-round. It’s downright cold right now, but I’ll make sure that you’re warm. I’ll always take care of you, I promise.”

She felt the nudges against her hands and closed her eyes.

“We’ll be fine. Just you and me, all right?”

She smiled at the kick, opening her eyes and glancing back as her cell phone chimed. She held a hand on her belly as she walked to pick it up, glancing at the couch to see Dean still sleeping, huddled under the blanket.

_Can you talk?_

Melinda smiled at the message. Sam really wasn’t one for beating around the bush. She typed back that yes, she could, walking into the kitchen and pulling a bottle of water out of her fridge. The phone buzzed on the counter, and she picked it up without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey, Sam.”   
_“Creeps me out when you do that.”_

Melinda let out a laugh.

“You just texted me like two minutes ago. Who else would be calling me in that short of time?”   
_“You got a point.”_

Melinda rubbed a hand over her belly and walked to the kitchen window. She heard the sigh, letting a smile cross her face.

“What is it, Sam?”   
_“That obvious?”_   
“You’re like an open book.”   
_“You can’t even see me right now.”_   
“I don’t have to. Something’s weighing on your mind. What is it? What’s wrong?”

Sam sighed again.

_“It’s Dean.”_   
“I figured as much.”   
_“Mel, he’s … He’s gone.”_

Melinda turned around, glancing towards the living room, where she heard a quiet cough.

“Oh?”   
_“Yeah. Apparently, he … He checked himself out of rehab.”_

Melinda could just see Sam stalking around his office, hand pushing through his too-long-for-a-lawyer hair. She didn’t say anything, and Sam didn’t seem to notice.

_“The son of a bitch checked himself out, after I told him—I told him—this was his last chance. If he didn’t stick this time out to the end, that was it. Do you know how hard it was for me to say that? To the one person I’ve always been able to count on, strung out or not?”_   
“Sam—“   
_“I mean, he stuck around longer this time than he ever has before. And I … goddamn it, I really thought he’d make it this time. He seemed determined. Then again, he’s fooled us before.”_   
“Sam.”   
_“I just … He’s always left some sign before, you know? He’s given us some kind of clue as to where he’d be, and this time…”_   
“Sam!”

He was finally quiet, like he remembered Melinda was on the phone.

_“Yeah?”_   
“He’s here.”

The line was silent, and Melinda pulled the phone away from her ear, just to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped.

“Sam?”   
_“He’s there?”_   
“Yeah. He’s on my couch right now.”   
_“How the hell did he find you?”_

Melinda sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

“He’s like a bloodhound. You know that.”   
_“No, I … I haven’t given him anything that would tell him where you are. Bobby, either. We made sure that once you got away, you stayed gone. You don’t need to be brought back into this—“_   
“Sam, Jesus. Take a breath. Relax. I’m fine. Baby’s fine.”   
_“And Dean?”_

The line was quiet.

“There was a snowstorm the other day. Dropped a foot of snow on us. And now, before the snow can even melt a fraction of a little bit, there’s another storm coming in tomorrow.”

Sam sighed, pushing his hand through his hair again. Melinda went on, speaking quietly.

“My, uh … My neighbor always rides around and makes sure no one is out in the bad storms. He found Dean about a mile from my place and brought him to me. He didn’t know it was Dean. My house is just closest to where he was found.”   
_“He found him in the snow?”_

Melinda sighed.

“Yeah. He’s really sick, Sam. He was sick before Benny found him.”   
_“How bad? Is it … What’s wrong with him?”_   
“Double pneumonia. Strep throat, too. He’s been rocking a fever ever since Benny brought him in. He’s been unconscious, too, but don’t worry. I’ve been watching his vitals and we’ve got an IV in him. Pumping him full of antibiotics and fluids to keep him from getting dehydrated.”

Sam was quiet for a minute, before he spoke again.

_“Do you … I mean, is he …”_

Melinda sighed.

“I’ve set up a couple of blood tests. So far, they’ve come back clean. His liver enzymes are good.”   
_“What about his heart?”_   
“From what I can tell with my limited equipment, his heart’s fine.”

Sam let out a breath of relief and Melinda closed her eyes.

_“So you don’t think he’s relapsed?”_

Melinda shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so. My lab tech’s pretty awesome, and I’ve got her on high alert. She says that there isn’t a trace of any drug in his system, no alcohol, and she’s waiting on the next round of samples.”   
_“Good. That … that’s good. Does he know where he is?”_

Melinda sighed.

“He’s been unconscious. Three whole days, he’s been out. He’s really sick, Sam.”   
_“Do I need to get him? I mean, I can call in some favors. Get a chopper out there and get him out of your hair.”_

Melinda smiled.

“No, don’t do that. I think he’s about to turn a corner. He was sweating a little this morning, and his fever’s going down. When it finally breaks, he should wake up.”

Sam let out another breath of relief.

_“You should be a doctor, Mel.”_   
“Sam.”   
_“I know. I know, and I … I can’t help but feel guilty.”_   
“I have told you time and time again. It’s not your fault I dropped out. It’s no one’s but my own.”

Sam nodded, running a hand over his face.

_“Still.”_   
“Stop. You are such a sweetheart.”

Sam let out a laugh.

_“You sure you’re okay?”_   
“Yes.”   
_“Will you still be okay when he wakes up?”_   
“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”

Sam let out a laugh.

_“I guess we will. So how’s our girl doing?”_   
“Well, there’s still a chance that she’s a boy.”

Sam laughed again.

_“I have high hopes.”_   
“Well, he or she is right on schedule. Thirty-two weeks today.”   
_“Winding down, huh?”_

Melinda smiled, spreading her hand out over her belly.

“Yep. About the size of a little coconut.”   
_“Well, tell baby coconut that Uncle Sam loves her.”_   
“She’s pretty loved already. Uncle Sam, Uncle Benny, Uncle Bobby.”   
_“Ha! You said she!”_

Melinda groaned.

“I have told you, I don’t know what it is. One person knows what it is, and she’s not telling.”   
_“Well, tell Lacie I said hello. And if you wanted to give her my number—“_   
“She’s not telling you, Sam. You’ll find out when the baby arrives.”   
_“Fine, fine. Whatever.”_

Melinda let out a quiet laugh. She heard Sam’s muffled voice before it filled the line again.

_“Look, Mel, I’ve got an appointment now.”_   
“Okay. Go be a big, bad lawyer.”

Sam let out a laugh, and Melinda smiled.

“I’ll call you in a day or two and give you an update.”   
_“Sounds good. Take care of yourself, okay?”_   
“You, too.”

They ended the call, and Melinda let out a quiet sigh. She heard a cough come from the living room and she made her way back in there, seeing Dean’s face coated in sweat. She swallowed, flashing back to the first time she’d seen him that way, closing her eyes tightly. She heard the footsteps on the porch, and she made her way to the door as quickly as she could. Benny’s eyes went wide when the door swung open, and the smile on his face quickly faded.

“What is it? Are you okay?”

Melinda pushed him out of the way, stepping onto the porch, the icy wind making her gasp. The frigid air going into and out of her lungs shocked her system. She shook her head, taking in deep breaths of the cold air, never realizing the way her entire body trembled. She felt the hands rubbing up and down her arms and she turned around to see Benny, his blue eyes wide and worried.

“Mel, what is it?”

She shook her head.

“I can’t … I can’t breathe!”   
“Calm down. Darlin’, try and calm down.”

She gasped in another breath, shaking her head. Benny pulled her to him, locking his arms around her, gently pressing her head to his chest. Melinda’s hands came up to grip Benny’s jacket, and he let out a breath.

“Come on, baby. Calm down.”

He heard the ragged breath, felt the stiffness of her trembling body against his own. He ducked his head down, his mouth by her ear and began to sing. Melinda went still, almost suddenly, and Benny continued to sing, stroking her hair. Little by little, she relaxed, until she was resting against him, breathing normally. Benny finished the song with a kiss to the top of her head, and Melinda sighed.

“Better?”

She nodded, moving closer to him. Benny tightened his hold on her, feeling her begin to shiver in his arms.

“Mel—“   
“Was that _The Weight_?”

Benny smiled at her murmured question.

“Yeah, it was.”   
“I’ve always liked that song.”   
“Me too, darlin’.”

After a particularly harsh shiver, Benny gently patted Melinda’s back.

“Hey, why don’t we move this party back inside? Out of the cold, in by the fire?”

Melinda nodded, letting Benny lead her through the door. They walked into the living room, and Benny maneuvered her to where she was standing in front of the fire, with him behind her, blocking the man on the couch. When she had warmed up, she gave him a smile, squeezing his arm as she stepped around him and walked to the kitchen. Benny followed her, standing back and watching as she methodically put away the groceries.

He’d figured out, after eight months with her, that when the moments overtook her like they had a tendency to do, it was best for her to just talk it out. She’d take a little while to gather her thoughts, and when she was ready, she’d talk, and he’d listen. Sometimes he gave commentary, but mostly, he just let her ramble. Melinda walked over, sliding a box of Cheerios in the cabinet, before walking back to where she had the groceries lined up on the counter. Benny walked over, leaning against the counter. After a moment, Melinda spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“He’s sweating. I didn’t check to be sure, but I’m fairly certain his fever broke.”   
“That’s good.”

She nodded.

“I, uh… Sam called. His brother, you know? He was telling me that Dean checked himself out of rehab and didn’t tell anyone where he was going. They couldn’t find him, and Sam thought I should know.”

Benny nodded, crossing his ankles, resting his shoulder against the cabinet. He didn’t speak, so Melinda went on.

“Stroke of luck brought him here, I guess. Sam offered to send a chopper or something to get him, but with the storm rolling in…”   
“Yeah, they’ve already started closing the roads.”

Melinda nodded, stepping back from the cabinet, and Benny glanced over, seeing everything inside organized to perfection. He opened his mouth, closing it right back. Melinda closed the cabinet, letting her hand rest on the door before moving to the refrigerator.

“When Sam and I hung up the phone, I … I went back to check on Dean. He was coughing, and I just …”

She swallowed, going still for a moment. Benny watched as she came back to herself, reaching out and continuing her task.

“He’s been sweating all morning. This last time when I checked on him, though… His face—his face was c-covered in sweat.”

She cleared her throat, and Benny took a step closer to her. Her voice was quiet when she spoke again.

“All of a sudden, I just … I was back there.”   
“Back where?”   
“California.”

Benny waited a beat, and Melinda let out a breath. He watched her fingers tremble as she arranged the items in her refrigerator, listening to her quiet voice.

“My second year of med school, I walked into our apartment one day to hear Sam screaming from the bedroom. I ran in, and I saw that he had Dean in the shower, slapping his face, screaming out his name. I reached out for him, and the water was like ice. He’d …”

She hissed out a breath, moving a hand to grip her stomach.

“Mel?”   
“I’m okay. It’s just—“  
"Shit. Come here. Sit down.”

Benny walked her from the refrigerator over to the kitchen table. He sat her in a chair, kneeling down and taking her hands as she breathed out, eyes closed, face twisted in pain.

“I know it’s hard, darlin’, but try and relax.”   
“It hurts.”   
“I know. Just try and calm down. Take it easy. Everything’s fine.”

She breathed out another long, shaky exhale, gripping Benny’s hands tightly.

“The baby can’t come now. It’s too early.”   
“It’s not a real contraction. It’s one of them … one of those fake ones. What are they called?”   
“Braxton-Hicks. And they sure as hell don’t feel fake.”   
“Really? What do they do again?”

She breathed out again, taking in a deep breath through her nose.

“They’re like a practice round. Getting the body ready for the real thing. They don’t actually accomplish anything.”   
“Oh, right. Well, how can you tell the difference?”   
“Braxton-Hicks go away pretty easily. They’re not as painful as real contractions, don’t last as long. Don’t do anything worthwhile except piss me off.”

Benny laughed, and Melinda went still. She looked up, letting out a breath.

“Thank you.”

He smiled as he reached up and tucked a strand of honey-colored hair behind her ear.

“No problem. Got your mind off of it, didn’t I?”

She nodded and sighed, leaning back in the chair and rubbing her belly. Benny laid a hand on it, and she moved it around, both of them smiling when he felt the kick against his palm. She let out a breath, closing her eyes as Benny rubbed slow, small circles into her belly. After a moment, she spoke quietly.

“Dean had overdosed. Just slightly, and Sam tossing him in the cold shower like he did was enough to wake him up. Sam and I told him that he had to get his shit together, one way or another. He … He wouldn’t go to rehab at first. He was determined to detox on his own, to ride it out without any doctors.”

She shook her head, sitting up as she let out a long breath. Benny got to his feet, rubbing a hand over his face before he took the seat beside her. She leaned into him as he put an arm around her, and she let out a shuddering breath, tears welling up in her eyes.

“It was horrible. I swear, I thought we were both in hell. We spent four days in our apartment, and Dean was sick as a dog. I kept trying to talk him into going to the hospital, and he wouldn’t. He kept seeing things and shaking so hard he’d fall off the bed, and the one time I stepped out for … God, I don’t even remember what now. But the one time I left, when I came back, he had a needle in his arm and a smile on his face.”

She shook her head, a tremble going through her whole body, and Benny turned to take her fully in his arms. She closed her eyes as she rested her chin on his shoulder. Benny rubbed her back soothingly, humming _The Weight_ again as she trembled against him. After a moment, he spoke quietly.

“What was it?”

She opened her eyes, seeing the top of Dean's head at the edge of the couch. She let out a long sigh.

“That time? Heroin. He’d put down the cocaine and picked up heroin.”


	8. Once Upon A Dream

Dean could feel it now. He wasn’t dead after all. He just wished he was. His entire body was sore. His chest ached, his muscles ached, his throat … Well, his throat wasn’t so bad anymore. But the whole damn rest of his body made up for it. He was hot, too. The one time he’d moved, though, to kick off the covers, was enough to make him beg for mercy. So he’d just relegated himself to the fact that he’d just be hot. And achy. And whiny, too.

He coughed again, biting back the moan he wanted to give. God _damn_ , how could a cough radiate pain throughout his entire body like that? He let out a long shaky breath, breathing in and being confused until he realized that he had oxygen tubes in his nose. Was that why it didn’t hurt to breathe anymore?

He let out another breath, deciding to just bite the bullet and open his eyes. He blinked, over and over again until his vision was clear.

Huh. That was weird.

He wasn’t in a hospital, like he imagined he’d be. No, he … Was he in someone’s living room? He had to be. Dean glanced around, seeing the little knick-knacks, blankets, candles… Things that turned a house into a home. He reached up a shaking hand, pulling the oxygen out of his nose, taking in a deep breath. He smelled the fire that crackled and popped in the fireplace, but underneath it was an all-too familiar smell. He closed his eyes again as his mind drifted back.

* * *

 

_Eight Years Earlier_

Dean made a face as he picked up an absolutely hideous figurine. Why anyone would want a gaudy, ugly-ass rocking horse ... statue-thing was beyond him. He glanced behind him, seeing his brother reaching out, fingertips gently brushing over a glass vase before he moved his attention elsewhere. He smiled, letting it spread across his face as she walked up to him.

“Close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.”   
“Careful. Last time I heard those words, I got laid.”

Melinda’s cheeks flamed at that statement, and Dean just laughed, dutifully taking the punch in his upper arm. He lifted a hand to rub at the sore muscle, and Melinda shook her head. She turned to walk away, and Dean reached out, taking her arm.

“Baby, hey. I’m—I’m sorry. I was just messing with you.”   
“It’s not funny, Dean. People are here. What if they’d heard you?”   
“It’s not like we try and keep it a secret, Mel. You’re not exactly the quietest of—“

His sentence was muffled when she clamped her hand over his mouth.

“And if you ever want to experience it ever again, I suggest you keep your mouth shut when I move my hand. Capisce?”

Dean nodded, and Melinda let her hand fall. Dean raised both his hands, palms out in a show of surrender. She smiled, then lifted something to his face.

“Smell.”   
“What is it?”   
“Smell, then I'll tell you.”

Dean sighed, then leaned forward, taking a whiff.

“Damn. That smells awesome. What is it?”

Melinda smiled.

“It’s called ‘Bird of Paradise.’”   
“Whoa, hang on. That’s not like, made from birds, is it? Some of that freaky hoodoo shit?”

Melinda laid a hand on his shoulder as she laughed.

“No, you weirdo. It’s … I think a bird of paradise is a flower.”   
“What? For real?”

She nodded.

“Then why the hell isn’t it called ‘Flower of Paradise’?”   
“Because I think the flower kind of looks like a bird. Anyway, that is not what’s important. What is important: Do you want our house to smell like this?”

An involuntary smile crossed Dean's face. 'Our house.' He liked the sound of that. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the girl he loved.

“All day, every day?”   
“Well, for now. Until the candle runs out. Or until fall comes, and we can get a pumpkin-flavored candle.”

Dean groaned, taking another punch in his arm. He looked down to meet those blue eyes, and he smiled.

“I think ‘Bird of Paradise’ smells awesome.”

Melinda grinned, reaching up to loop a hand around his neck, bringing him to her level, kissing him right on the mouth. She walked away clutching the candle, and Dean just smiled, shaking his head.

* * *

 

He opened his eyes, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. That was one of the last times he can remember being genuinely happy without being high. Everything sort of went to hell after that, shortly after they moved into that apartment, and he’d never been able to get over the smell of that candle.

The same one he would swear was burning now.

He coughed again, this time harsher than he had before. He couldn’t stop the moan that came after this one, and he opened his eyes as he felt the oxygen being put back in his nose. A man stood over him, a big hulk of a guy, with the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. Well, second pair of the bluest eyes, but this guy’s were much lighter. He blinked, and a smile shown through the stubble on the guy’s face.

“Well, well. You back with us, brother?”

Now that was an accent he wasn’t used to. Southern, most definitely. Dean started to open his mouth, and was taken by a coughing fit again. The man let out a sigh, looking away from Dean, speaking softly.

"Yeah, he’s up. … Maybe some cough medicine? I know you’ve got some.”

Dean tried to listen for the reply, but he couldn’t hear one. The guy stood up, walking away, and Dean just sighed, closing his eyes again. He felt the couch dip, blinking his eyes open, going completely still when his vision focused.

It couldn’t be. He was dreaming. There was no way in hell this was real.

“How are you feeling?”

God, that _was_ her voice. He just stared at her as she reached out, and his eyes drifted closed as he felt the soft touch to his forehead. He opened his eyes again at the sigh she gave.

“Finally. Open your mouth for me.”

He did as she asked, watching her as she slid the thermometer under his tongue, pressing gently on his jaw to get him to shut his mouth. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, and if he was completely honest, he was afraid to. He was afraid he’d lose her again, and he just couldn’t bear to let that happen. The thermometer beeped, and she laid a hand on his cheek, getting him to open his mouth as she removed it. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, God.”   
“What?”

The man walked back in, a small cup of red liquid in his hand. She smiled up at him.

“His fever's broken, finally.”   
“Hey, good job, brother!”

Dean looked to the man, eyes confused for a moment before he looked back. She was smiling at him, and she reached up to brush her fingers through his hair.

“This is Benny. He’s the one who found you, brought you here. ‘Here’ is Colorado, deep mountain country.”

She let out a breath, letting a small smile cross her face.

“And I get to be 'It' next time in hide-and-seek. You found me.”

He opened his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as another coughing spell went through him. He heard her sigh, heard her speak to the—to Benny, and he opened his eyes again once the coughing wore off. She had a damp washcloth, wiping the moisture from his eyes before laying the washcloth against his chest. She held the little cup in her hands now, and Dean looked to it, then back to her.

“I want you to try and swallow this for me, okay? It’ll help with the coughing and put you back to sleep. Can you try for me, Dean?”

He nodded, slowly, and Benny helped him to sit up. She tilted the cup at his lips, and Dean grimaced at the taste, then swallowed. It wasn’t completely painless to swallow, but it no longer felt like jagged razors slicing down his throat. He opened his eyes, and she was there, gently wiping his mouth.

“There we go. You did good.”

Dean opened his mouth, wanting to say so many things, and she just smiled, gently shushing him.

“Don’t try and talk. We’ll have time for that later. Just rest now.”

He stared at her, and she smiled, reaching to brush her fingers through his hair again.

“I’ll be right here. Rest.”

He nodded, relaxing into the pillow, eyes drifting shut as he felt her hand continue to run through his hair. And just before he drifted off to sleep, he found his voice, just enough for one word.

“Melinda.”  

* * *

 

Dean woke in the middle of the night, opening his eyes to see a fire roaring in the fireplace. He glanced over at the recliner situated somewhat across from the couch where he lay, and saw Melinda, blankets draped around her, head on her left shoulder as she slept. Dean blinked slowly as he looked at her, then brought his eyes forward when he felt the presence beside him. Benny sat on the edge of the coffee table, the thermometer in his hand.

“Open up.”

Dean did, albeit slowly, and Benny slid the thermometer between his lips. Dean stared at Benny while they waited, watching the way Benny glanced over his shoulder at Melinda, who made a quiet noise and turned to the other side of the chair. The thermometer beeped, and Benny turned back to take it from Dean, smiling.

“Still fever free, brother. Keep it up.”

Benny leaned back, getting another little cup of medicine in his big hand.

“Mel said you’d probably wake up and to give you this, no matter what. It’ll help you sleep.”

Dean nodded, wincing as he tried to lean forward, reaching to lay a shaking hand over his chest. Benny’s eyes went soft.

“You all right?”

Dean managed to breathe out one quiet word.

“Hurts.”   
“Your chest?”

Dean nodded, and Benny laid a hand over Dean’s heart.

“Well, you’ve got pneumonia. Mel’s been listening to your lungs, giving you breathing treatments, and you’ve been coughing your damn lungs out. You had her pretty worried there at first, when I first brought you in. This is probably to be expected. We should let her know, though.”

Dean shook his head, reaching to lay a hand on Benny’s arm.

“Let … Let her sleep.”

Benny let out a breath, nodding. He gently shook off Dean’s hand, moving to help him sit up. Dean winced, letting out a quiet moan, but he drank down the medicine, grimacing again at the taste. Benny laid him back down, helped him get comfortable, and once he was, Dean looked over at the chair. Benny followed his gaze, then moved to set the blanket over Dean.

“She’s been sleeping there ever since I brought you in. Says she’s more comfortable like that, but I just don’t see it.”

Dean looked up, seeing the way Benny was looking over at Melinda.

“You … You live here?”

Benny smiled.

“Nah. I tried, but she swears she’s fine alone. And she is.”   
“Are you … you and …”

Benny smiled again.

“Just rest, brother. Storm should be here in the next hour. I’m going to go ahead and go home. If you need something, you can call me. I wrote my number on this napkin here. Mel’s got it in her phone, though.”

Dean nodded, and Benny checked his IV bag, then the oxygen tank.

“I think you’ll be fine until morning. Get some rest.”

Dean watched as Benny walked over, dropping another couple of logs on the fire before walking over and tucking the blanket further around Melinda, draping another on top of it. She shifted just a bit, and Benny gently stroked her hair until she settled. He leaned forward, kissing her forehead, and Dean squeezed his eyes shut at the lance of pain that shot through his heart. Benny slid his jacket over his shoulders, zipping it up. He looped a scarf around his neck, tugged a knit hat over his head. He slid gloves onto his hands, giving Dean one more look.

“Try and rest. This storm’s supposed to be a pretty harsh one. Good sleeping weather, though. Mel will be here, and she’ll get your medicine for you.”

Dean nodded, feeling the effects of the medicine. His eyes were already drifting shut when Benny spoke again, promising to check on them again as soon as he could.


	9. Friday Night Lights

_Ten Years Ago_

Dean hung his head, looking down at his lunch and feeling his appetite slip away. He should have known better. There was no way Melinda Halliwell would want anything to do with him. His reputation was pretty well known, and last year, he was damn proud of that. But now … Now he wasn’t too sure. It was weird, how what he was so sure he wanted wasn’t what he wanted at all. He looked up to see Lisa Braeden walk by, and he nodded his head when she flipped him off. Not like that surprised him. He actually deserved it.

What did surprise him was when he heard the quiet clearing of a throat.

He looked up, and there she was. Her blonde hair was to her shoulders, with a soft wave to it. She was chewing on her bottom lip, eyes cast away, to the left, as if she was waiting on something, anything to get her out of this. Dean smiled.

“I, uh … I didn’t think you were coming.”

Melinda looked down, then met his eyes.

“Neither did I.”

She set her tray down across from him, then sat. She took a deep breath, then opened her bag of chips. Dean went ahead and did the same, never taking his eyes from her. She finally set her hands on the table, lifting her eyes to him.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Dean smiled.

“Anything. Everything.”  
“Oh, god.”

He let out a laugh as she rolled her eyes, reaching across the table to take her hand, noticing how big her eyes got and the way her hand went stiff. He pushed his thumb into her palm, then let his fingers brush over the back of her hand.

“First of all, we’ve got to get you to relax. I’m not trying to jump your bones out here on the picnic table.”  
“Well, that’s reassuring.”

Dean laughed again.

“Seriously. Relax a little bit and hold my hand.”  
“I don’t want to hold your hand.” "  
“You’re lying.”

Blue eyes blinked at him.

“Really now?”

Dean smiled, still brushing his fingers slowly over the back of her hand.

“Your mouth says you don’t want it, but your body says you do. You’re holding back, and all I want you to do is just let it happen.”

Melinda shook her head, a smile crossing her face.

“You sure are full of yourself, aren’t you?” “  
No, I’m confident. There’s a difference.”

He watched, smiling as she relaxed just the tiniest bit, letting her shoulders ease from their tight, tense position. He talked a little more, getting her to relax without her even feeling it, and when he finally made her laugh, he felt her squeeze his hand, and he couldn’t stop smiling. She shook her head.

“Fine. Whatever. Episode Four was the best of the Star Wars.”  
“Thank you. Glad you agree.”

She rolled her eyes, continuing to smile. They heard the bell ring, and Melinda let out a sigh.

“Hey.”

She met his eyes, and he smiled at her.

“You know … We could keep on doing this.”  
“We have to go to class.”

He smiled.

“No, I … I mean at lunch. We could sit here and talk, away from the chaos of the lunchroom.”

She smiled, looking down at her tray. Dean watched her, then spoke.

“What?”

She shook her head, then lifted her eyes to his.

“You’re … You’re not really what I thought. I mean, you’re decent-looking, and popular, and you say you’re good at football—“  
“I am!”  
“But you don’t act like I thought you would. You’re …”  
“I’m what?”

She met his eyes again, smiling.

“I’m still deciding.”  
“Well, I must not be all that bad.”  
“And why would you say that?”

He grinned.

“Because you’ve been holding my hand this whole time.”

Melinda looked down, almost as if she were just seeing their hands for the first time. She met his eyes again, then smiled.

“Well. What do you know?”

* * *

 

“You call this fun?”

Lacie smiled, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

“Don’t even try to tell me that you’re not having fun.”  
“I’m not.”  
“You’re a liar.”  
“It is freezing.”  
“It’s not that cold.”  
“It’s September in Kansas, and it’s forty-something degrees out here.”

Lacie rolled her eyes.

“It’s a freak cold snap. Besides, you’re so bundled up right now, I bet you’re sweating.”

Melinda crossed her arms over her chest, and Lacie laughed. She reached over, taking the other cup of hot chocolate and handing it to Melinda. Melinda gave her a grateful look over her scarf, and Lacie smiled. Melinda took a sip, sighing when the warm liquid settled in her stomach.

“Okay. Now… What’s going on?”

Lacie glanced out at the field, a look of concentration on her face.

“I’m not 100% sure.”

Melinda laughed, and Lacie smiled.

“I do know that we’re trying to run the ball down to that side of the field, and if we make it all the way, that’s a touchdown. Then we’ll kick it through those … things, and get the extra point.”

Melinda gave her a look, before they both laughed. Lacie shook her head.

“My big brother tried to teach me, but I … just really could care less, you know?”

Melinda smiled and nodded. Lacie glanced at the field, eyes lighting up.

“On the other hand … There’s your boy.”  
“What?”

Lacie pointed to the field, where half the team had just walked off. Melinda watched as Dean took his helmet off, shaking his head, which was covered in sweat. Someone handed him a towel, and she watched as he rubbed it over his head, making his hair stand up every which way. He turned to look through the stands, and Melinda watched as his shoulders rose and fell on a particularly long breath. He turned away, and her eyebrows lifted at the very impressive view of his backside. And she blinked, moving backwards as Lacie reached over and dabbed a napkin at her mouth.

“What are you doing?”  
“Getting the drool. Hold still.”

Melinda batted her hand away, and Lacie just laughed.

“Seriously, you’ve both got it so bad.”  
“Shut up.”

Lacie laughed again.

“You should let him know you’re here.”  
“We’re just lab partners.”  
“Yeah, and the Queen’s just another small town girl. Get a grip, Melinda.”

Melinda sighed, and Lacie leaned back, bumping shoulders with her.

“Come on. What is it, really? Is it because it’s him?”

Melinda shrugged her shoulders, looking down into her cup.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Lacie laughed.

“Well, at least you’ve made up your mind.”

Melinda laughed quietly.

“I just … I don’t want this to turn out like the movies, you know? I don’t want to end up being Carrie at the prom with the pig’s blood all over her.”  
“First of all, ew. Second of all, this is real life, kid. Not the movies.”  
“Guys like Dean Winchester don’t get with girls like me.”  
“And why the hell not? Maybe he’s different. I mean, you guys have spent every lunch together this week, just the two of you. His face lights up when he sees you. You blush furiously, and it’s just so sweet I almost go into a diabetic coma.”  
“If I pushed you out of that chair, do you think you would tumble all the way down the hill?”

Lacie laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

“Please don’t. I’ll get grass in my hair, and then I’ll just have to kill someone.”

Melinda smiled.

“All right. I won’t.”  
“But you really should let him know you’re here. He’s looking for you.”  
“He’s probably looking for someone to go home with tonight.”  
“Yeah. … You.”

Melinda blushed, and Lacie smiled.

“Look at them cheeks. I rest my case, Rosy.”  
“Shut up, Lacie.”

Lacie giggled as she sipped her hot chocolate. She leaned forward, looking at the scoreboard.

“Okay, they’re on the fourth … down. Fourth down. Pretty sure that means Dean’s about to go back on the field. We’re down by … six. Now’s your chance.”

Melinda gave her a look.

“Chance for what?”

Lacie closed her eyes, lifting her head.

“To get his attention. Let him know you’re here, he shows off a little for you, we score, and later on, so can you.”  
“Lacie!”

Lacie nearly collapsed in giggles.

“Just throw the guy a bone, Mel. Jesus. You came to see him. Don’t even try to tell me otherwise, because you’ll be lying, and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a liar.”

Melinda sighed, leaning forward to look at the scoreboard, then back to Lacie. She opened her mouth, and Lacie cut her off.

“Dare you.”

Melinda’s eyes widened, and Lacie smiled, knowing she’d won. Melinda narrowed her eyes at Lacie, then pushed the blanket off of her legs, shivering just a bit at the cold air. She noticed Dean a little ways down the sidelines, scanning the bleachers, absently raising a hand every now and then. She watched, seeing his face light up when he saw his brother, raising his fist as the younger boy yelled for him. He turned back, shoulders slumping just a bit.

“Hey, Winchester!”

He stopped at the call of his name, looking at the bleachers until he heard the whistle. He walked forward, looking up to the chairs at the top of the hill, beside the bleachers, seeing Melinda standing there, bundled in a navy blue coat, with a pink scarf around her neck and a pink wrap around her ears. She lifted a hand, giving him a smile that made him weak in the knees. He smiled back, raising his hand to her.

“Winchester, come on. We’re up.”  
“She came.”

Ash looked into the stands, letting out a breath.

“Thank God. Maybe now you’ll play worth a shit.”

Ash laughed as Dean pushed him, pushing his helmet on, fluffing out his hair underneath it. Ash had a mullet, always had, and it was one of his proudest accomplishments. Well, that and being a junior that already aced senior-level physics. In his sophomore year. Dean slapped him on the back, and they jogged onto the field.

Within two plays, Dean and the offense had scored, getting the two-point conversion and putting the Lawrence High Mustangs ahead. When the teams left the field at halftime, the Mustangs had a considerable lead. And Melinda had a considerable blush on her cheeks from the wink Dean had given her as he’d stopped at the fence before Ash came and nearly dragged him away. Lacie came back from the concession stand, hands full, a huge smile on her face.

“Not a word, Tyson.”

Lacie clamped her lips together, sitting down, offering Melinda one of her nachos.

“I see this game seems to be in our favor.”  
“Looks like it.”  
“Couldn’t be because of the massive crush the quarterback has on you and vice versa.”  
“Damn it, Lacie. I said not a word!”

Lacie laughed, handing Melinda a napkin before she could ask for one. After a few quiet minutes of chewing, neither of them paying attention to the halftime show, Lacie spoke.

“Hey, there’s supposed to be a party after the game.”

Melinda nodded, eating another nacho. Lacie went on.

“Dean’s for sure going to be there.”  
“For sure?”

Lacie smiled.

“He never misses a party. We should go.”

Melinda looked over, and Lacie nodded at her.

“You’re already staying the night with me. Not like you have a curfew.”  
“Do you?”

Lacie smiled.

“I have a one-story house and a room at the back of it. I sleep with music on and this body pillow my grandma got me is the perfect size to look like me curled up in the bed.”

Melinda smiled.

“Wow. Impressive.”

Lacie shrugged.

“Come on. We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. But it wouldn’t hurt to check it out, right?”

Melinda looked away, lifting her head as the team came back onto the field. She looked around until she saw number 52, a little smile crossing her face until an unfamiliar voice called her name.

“Hey, Melinda?”

She looked to Lacie, and they both looked to the stands. A boy with shaggy brown hair and a wide smile was looking at her. She gave him a look and his smile seemed to widen.

“I’m Sam. Dean’s brother.”

Melinda relaxed.

“Oh, hey. Nice to meet you.”

Sam just smiled again, dimples showing in his cheeks. Melinda couldn’t help but smile back, feeling comfortable and at ease around the kid. According to Dean, he had that way about him. Sam swung himself around the bleacher, letting his already-long legs dangle off the side.

“Dean wanted me to get you to go down to the fence before the third quarter starts.”  
“What?”

Sam just grinned.

“He just wants to talk to you.”  
“I couldn’t—“  
“Get up and get your skinny ass down there.”

Melinda looked back at Lacie, who narrowed her dark eyes.

“Go. Now. You’ve got three minutes before the game starts again.”  
“But I … I don’t—“  
“I will get this kid to drag you down there.”

Melinda glanced at Sam, who held up his hands in surrender as he laughed.

“You should go. I don’t want to have to do that.”  
“You’d really do that? After just meeting me?”  
“From the look she’s giving me? Yeah. I’m afraid I would.”

Melinda laughed, while Lacie and Sam just smiled. She let out a sigh, standing up and dropping the blanket on her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she walked down to the fence. As she was making her way down the hill, she saw number 52 break away from the huddle and jog to the fence. They got there at the same time, and he set his helmet on the ground.

“Mel. You came.”

She smiled, reaching and looping her fingers through the fence. Almost without thinking, Dean reached out and covered her fingers with his own.

“Shit, your hands are cold.”  
“Well, not all of us have a nice, warm locker room to go to.”  
“I can get you in the concession stand. There’re heaters in there.”  
“No, I … I’m fine. Lacie’s here, and we’ve got blankets up there.”

She looked behind her, up the hill, and Lacie waved, whistling loudly. Melinda closed her eyes, turning back around and shaking her head. She opened her eyes, looking up, taken aback by the softness of Dean’s green eyes as he looked at her. She could feel her cheeks warm again, and Dean moved a finger to roll it down Melinda’s cheek.

“I’ve got a proposition for you.”  
“Oh, do you?”

She smiled, and he did the same as he nodded.

“I bet you that we’re going to win this game by at least ten points.”  
“Oh, come on.”  
“What, you don’t think we can do it?”

She shrugged her shoulders. Dean tapped the back of her hand with a finger.

“Ten or more.”  
“Don’t you score in increments of six?”  
“Seven, if you count the extra point. Possibly eight with a two-point conversion.”

Melinda nodded, then sighed as she shook her head.

“I just don’t think you’ll do it by ten.”  
“Then you take the bet?”

A smile crossed her face.

“What happens when I win?”  
“ _When_ you win?”

Dean let out a laugh. Melinda smiled, waiting, and he finally spoke.

“ _If_ you win… I don’t know. Whatever you want.”  
“And if you win? Which you won’t, but I’ll indulge you.”

Dean shook his head, the smile wide on his face.

“ _When_ I win …”

He stopped, and they just looked at each other for a moment. He swallowed, then spoke softly.

“I get a kiss.”

Melinda’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open.

“What?”  
“You heard me.”

She shook her head.

“No, you … No.”  
“Hey. Look at me.”

She shook her head again, and Dean let go of her hand, reaching to put a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze back to his. She kept shaking her head, speaking so softly he almost couldn’t hear her over the noise of the crowd.

“You—you don’t … You don’t—“  
“Yes. Yes, I do.”  
“Why?”

The buzzer rang then, making her jump, and Dean closed his eyes as he hung his head. He ignored Ash’s call for him and squeezed Melinda’s hand.

“Tell me you’ll take the bet.”  
“Dean—“  
“Do it. I’ve got to go, Mel. Please.”

She swallowed, looking to the field as the coach yelled for Dean. She met his eyes as he implored one last time, a barely-whispered “please.” She blinked as she stared at him, the deep emerald of his eyes, then nodded.

“Okay.”

Dean grinned after she whispered the word. He nodded, picking up his helmet and running onto the field, snapping the ball just as the play clock clicked to zero. Melinda let out a shaky breath, turning and walking back up the hill. She sat beside Lacie, wrapping the blanket back around her, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck and face. Lacie didn’t say anything for a while, until Dean and the offense jogged off the field.

“Do you want another blanket?”

Melinda looked over, smiling as she shook her head.

“No, I’m okay.”

Lacie nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Melinda sighed.

“He … He made a bet with me.”  
“Okay?”  
“If we win by ten, I … I have to kiss him.”  
“Shut up. What?”

Melinda closed her eyes, shaking her head.

“I don’t get it either.”  
“What’s not to get? He’s desperate for you.”

Melinda sat up and pointed at Lacie, a cynical smile crossing her face.

“That’s it. That is it, right there.”  
“What?”  
“You said it.”  
“I can’t even remember what I just said.”

Melinda sat back and closed her eyes, letting out a sigh.

“You said that he’s desperate for me.”  
“And?”  
“I’m the one girl who hasn’t … dropped her panties after he said her name. It’s all a game for him.”  
“First of all, I did not say that. Second, you’ve got to stop. Why can’t you just see that this guy likes you, genuinely likes you, and not because you put out. In fact, for the opposite. Stop trying to find an escape hatch and just see what happens.”

Melinda let out a sigh, sitting up straighter as the other team scored.

“Maybe I won’t have to.”

But at the end of the fourth quarter, they were on the edges of their seats. The game was tied, 21-21. They went into overtime, something Sam tried to gently explain, just sighing and shaking his head when he was met with empty stares. Once Sam had gotten Melinda to go to the fence for Dean, he’d stayed by the girls, offering commentary on the game between talking about showing the girls how much he idolized his brother. And in a twist of events that Melinda, Sam, Lacie, and even Dean didn’t really understand, the Mustangs scored again, Dean firing a bullet into the waiting arms of the man in the end zone, getting the extra point, and then somehow also getting a field goal. Everyone was jumping up and down, screaming, and even Lacie and Melinda had gotten into it. The team went back to the locker room, and Melinda watched as number 52 walked away, turning back at the last moment and meeting her eyes, giving her a wink. She shook her head, and Lacie took in a breath.

“Oh, holy crap.”  
“What?”  
“The score.”

Melinda gave her a look.

“What score?”

Lacie blew out her breath.

“The one in the game we just froze our asses off at.”  
“What about it?”  
“What was it?”

Melinda glanced behind her at the still-lit scoreboard.

“31-21, us.”  
“Uh-huh. And how many points did we win by?”  
“Ten.”

Melinda’s eyes widened, and she stopped in her tracks, looking behind her at the scoreboard. She turned back to Lacie.

“How did that happen?!”  
“Maybe he’s psychic.”

Lacie rubbed her shoulder where Melinda hit her, and Melinda rubbed her own where Lacie had hit back. After a moment, Lacie gently laid a hand on Melinda’s back.

“Hey, you okay?”

Melinda shook her head.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”  
“Well, don’t.”

Melinda looked over at her, and Lacie had a look of concern on her face.

“Look, it’s just a stupid bet. You don’t have to follow through with it. He’ll get over it. We don’t even have to go to the party. We’ll swing by Taco Bell and go to my house, watch movies and stay up all night.”

Melinda smiled, then sighed.

“No, we … We should go. He deserves an explanation if nothing else.”

Lacie smiled.

“Are you sure?”

Melinda nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

Lacie smiled, looping her arm around Melinda’s shoulders.

“Well, then let’s go. We’ll have to make an entrance. And I was serious about Taco Bell.”


	10. Revelation

Melinda turned from the sink, going to stand at the door to the kitchen, watching Dean as he slept on. She let a hand drift down to her belly, where the baby was moving restlessly, almost as if it could tell something was unsettling its mother. She smiled softly, walking back into the living room, setting her teacup down by her chair, making her way to Dean and the couch. She sat on the edge, reaching over and laying her hand against his forehead, letting it slide to cup his cheek.

And his emerald eyes blinked open.

Melinda smiled, letting her hand caress the red-tinted stubble on his jaw.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

Dean smiled, coughing quietly, wincing as pain resounded through his chest. Melinda sighed.

“You still don’t sound 100%.”  
“Nah. I could … run … a marathon.”

She snorted.

“Oh, yeah. Can’t get a full sentence out, yet Iron Man, here he comes.”

Dean smiled, resting back against the pillows. She sighed, looking around the room.

“Let me grab the stethoscope and listen to you.”

He nodded, closing his eyes as she stood, walking over to her chair, picking up the stethoscope and looping it around her neck. She turned around and he coughed, opening his eyes and looking over to her, eyes widening and going completely still as he watched her put her hair in a messy ponytail. She looked over at him, letting her arms fall.

“Dean? You okay?”

He didn’t answer her.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Dean.”

He blinked, shaking his head.

“You… You’re …”

Melinda’s mouth opened, before she shut it. She looked down, laying a hand against her stomach. She lifted her eyes back to his.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Let me … I need …”

She turned and walked out of the room, leaving Dean to close his eyes, laying back against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden rush of tears.

* * *

 

Melinda closed her eyes as she gripped the counter in the bathroom. She was taking deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth, like what those stupid videos she’d watched had tried to teach her. She shook her head, lifting her eyes to the mirror.

“Stop. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

She reached a hand down, gently rubbing her belly.

“We’re all fine.”

She reached up and pulled her hair from the ponytail, sliding the band over her wrist. She grabbed her brush, running it through her long blonde hair. Every time she hit a tangle, she threatened to cut it all off, but when her hair was shining and smooth, she took it all back. She took one last breath, steeling herself and walking into the living room. Dean was propped up on the couch, looking at his hands. He lifted his eyes to hers, and they just looked at each other for a while. Melinda finally cleared her throat.

“It’s good … that you’re sitting up. It’ll help you breathe better.”

Dean nodded, looking back down. She closed her eyes for a moment, then walked over to the couch. She took her seat near the edge of it, putting the stethoscope in her ears. She rubbed the end of it, then looked to Dean.

“This might be cold.”

He nodded, closing his eyes as she reached under his shirt with a shaking hand, pressing the bell over his heart. He sucked in a breath, because it was a little cold, then exhaled. Melinda closed her eyes as she moved it around, listening as Dean breathed. She got him to sit up, helping him as best she could, sighing as she put his shirt back down, taking the stethoscope out of her ears and hanging it around her neck. She looked at the clock on the wall as she took his hand, laying her fingers to the side of his wrist. He watched her as she watched the clock, eventually dropping his hand and standing up, walking to the mantle above the fireplace and writing something. She finally propped a hand on her hip, turning back to look at him.

“You still don’t sound good. I’m going to give you another round of antibiotics, one more liter of saline, and a breathing treatment.”

Dean just nodded, and she walked over, slipping on a pair of gloves and preparing the breathing treatment. She met his eyes once, and he smiled.

“Did you … raid a hospital?”

Melinda smiled.

“It’s from the clinic where I work. I got Benny to go raid it.”

Dean nodded.

“So Benny… He’s … Is he …?”

She went still, then swallowed as she went back to her task. Dean nodded, speaking softly.

“You don’t have to tell me.”  
“It’s really none of your business.”  
“I know.”

Melinda finished with shaking hands. She reached and took the oxygen out of Dean’s nose, slipping the mask over his face. He lifted a hand to it and she shook her head.

“Leave it on. This will probably induce a coughing fit, so try to just let it. Don’t swallow whatever you cough up. I know it’s gross, but try and spit it out.”

Dean nodded, and she turned the machine on, making sure everything was working correctly before she stood up, walking and getting fresh bags of antibiotics and IV fluid, hanging it from the stand Benny had fixed up for her. She transferred the new bags to Dean’s IV, removing the old ones and dropping them in a special bag Benny had brought from the clinic. Dean watched her, giving out a cough every now and then. She finally stopped, removing her gloves, pressing her hands to her back and pushing forward. She let out a groan, glancing over at Dean as the machine stopped. She walked over and removed the mask from his face, taking the oxygen and putting it back in his nose.

“How you feeling?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay, I guess.”

Melinda nodded.

“The treatment might make you a little shaky. Make you feel a little nervous, maybe. That’s normal. Try not to think about it.”

Dean smiled and nodded, lifting his eyes to hers.

“Mel, we … We need to talk.”

She smiled.

“You need to get better. We’ll worry about talking later.”  
“Mel. It’s important.”

She nodded.

“Get better first. Try and rest some.”

She stood up, laying a hand against her belly as she left the room. Dean laid back against the pillows, letting out a sigh. He coughed, sitting up again, holding a hand to his chest, closing his eyes as he did what she asked, spitting into a little bowl she’d set beside the couch. When he could breathe again, he settled back, letting his eyes drift close, letting his mind drift back as sleep overtook him.


	11. It Happened One Night

_Ten Years Ago_

Dean tossed his can into the trashcan, catching the one Ash tossed him easily. He popped the tab, downing half the beer in one drink. He let out a breath, leaning back against the couch. Ash shook his head as he sat next to him.

“Why you looking like someone just shot your dog?”

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to laugh.

“No reason.”   
“Bullshit, Captain. Might as well get it off your chest.”

Dean sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

“I made a bet with her.”   
“’Her’ being …” “Melinda.”

Ash nodded, taking another swig of his beer.

“Continue.”   
“Anyway, I made a bet that if we won by ten points, she … She had to kiss me.”   
“Winchester, you dog.”

Dean pushed Ash’s shoulder, and he just laughed, flipping his mullet over his shoulder.

“Don’t spill my beer, asshole.”

Dean let out a sigh, drinking more of his beer. He was quiet, until Ash nudged him.

“So?”

Dean sighed again, lifting his beer to the cheerleaders who were huddled in a corner, whispering to each other and shooting glances his way.

“So … I couldn’t find her after the game.”   
“Ouch. She took off on you?”

Dean shrugged.

“Looks that way.”

He finished off his beer, tossing it and sinking it in the trashcan. Ash held a fist up and Dean bumped it with his own.

“Nice shot, Captain.”   
“Learned from the best, Ash.”

Ash sat up straighter, puffing out his skinny chest as best he could. Dean shook his head, getting up off the couch and grabbing another beer. He came and sat back down, handing Ash the beer he’d grabbed for him. Ash nodded, tapping Dean’s can with his own.

“Here’s my thoughts.”

Dean looked over at him, and Ash wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Don’t worry about her. So one girl’s being a bitch. Look around you, Cap. Tons of girls here, and some that you haven’t even slept with yet.”

They glanced around the room, and Ash made a face.

“Well, I’m sure there’s at least _one_ uncharted territory here.”

Dean closed his eyes, hanging his head.

“That’s not what I want anymore, Ash. I don’t want to be the douche that sleeps with every girl in school.”   
“Because there’s no more girls left? Ow, damn it. You spilled my damn beer.”

Dean blew out a breath as Ash rubbed at the spot of spilled beer on his jeans. He turned his can up, closing his eyes as the beer flowed down his throat. He crushed the now-empty can, tossing it to the garbage and sinking it. He went to stand up, feeling Ash’s hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa, there, Seabiscuit.”

Dean shot him a look and Ash dug in his pocket. He popped the tab on his can, dropping it with the rest of the tabs he had.

“That’s five, Cap. Maybe we should take a breather.”   
“Or maybe we should just finish off a six-pack. Don’t tell me you’re already feeling it?”   
“Hell, no. I was just thinking maybe we could take it slow. Remember last week?”

Dean smiled.

“Not really.”

Ash let out a laugh. Dean shook his head, standing up and getting two more beers, tossing one to Ash, popping the top on his as he sat back down. Ash held his can out and Dean sighed. Yep, Ash was buzzing. He started toasting when he started getting toasted.

“Here’s to … Here’s to hoping this party livens up a little.”   
“I’ll drink to that.”

They finished the beers in what struck Dean as an annoyingly short amount of time, but by the time he and Ash had finished the next ones, he was starting to feel it. He let out a sigh, resting back on the couch, waiting for Ash to come back with their latest rounds, closing his eyes and thinking of blue eyes and golden hair.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Wake the fuck up.”

Dean sighed, opening one eye and using it to glare at Ash. He took the beer he offered, watched as Ash popped the tab off, slipping it in his pocket. He took a drink, sitting on the couch, letting out a groan. Dean just shook his head, taking another drink, glancing around the room.

“Where are we again?”

Ash looked around, finally snapping his fingers.

“Lisa’s. Dr. and Mrs. Braeden are gone for the weekend. Dude, you and Lisa were all about it last year. Don’t you remember?”

Dean smiled.

“I, uh … Wasn’t real worried about checking out the décor in the living room. Really just focused on making it upstairs.”   
“Which you did?”   
“You know it.”

Ash laughed, tapping his can against Dean’s before they both took a drink. Dean saw Lisa across the room, with her hand in some guy’s back pocket. He finished off his beer, tossing it into the trash.

“I think you’re better than me at that now.”   
“It happens.”

Ash snorted, shaking his head as he took another drink.

“Your turn.”

Dean sighed, standing with a groan, feeling the way his brain seemed sluggish, as it took him a minute to remember to walk over and reach into the ice chest. Walking back, he stopped near the doorway, looking down the hall to see Lisa give him a hard smile as she led the guy up the stairs. He shook his head, walking back over, plopping down beside Ash and popping the tab on his can. Ash nodded slowly.

“We should slow down.”   
“Why? How many we up to?”

Ash dug in his pockets, pulling out the tabs.

“Fuck, man. This’ll be twelve.”

Dean looked at his can, shaking his head. He’d lost count of a couple. He shrugged his shoulders, turning the can up, seeing Ash shake his head as he sipped slowly. Dean leaned forward on the couch as he heard the door open, setting his beer on the table. It took him a second, but Ash sat up, too.

“What?”   
“She … She’s here.”   
“Who?”   
“Melinda, you idiot.”   
“Where?”

Dean closed his eyes, letting out a breath.

“By the door, Ash. Christ.”

Ash narrowed his eyes.

“You talking about Mousy or Glasses? Ow, you fucker.”

Ash sat back and rubbed his arm where Dean had punched him. Dean stood up, closing his eyes when the room spun a bit. He shook his head, then took a step forward, stopping when Ash tugged on his wrist. Dean glanced down at the couch, and Ash shook his head.

“You want it to look like you’ve been sitting here waiting on her? I can smell the desperation on you, Cap.”   
“Can you spell ‘desperation’ right now? Didn’t think so.”

Dean moved away, making his way from the back of the house to the kitchen, where Lacie was filling two cups, handing one to Melinda. Dean stood back at the door, watching and listening.

“Okay. So I’m sure he’s been here a while.”   
“I don’t know, Lace. This was a bad idea.”   
“Do you want to go?”

Melinda looked down at her cup, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t know.”   
“We don’t have to stay. No one will even notice if we skip out.”   
“I would.”

Dean smiled at the way Lacie’s mouth dropped open, and could only imagine the wide-eyed stare Melinda had to be wearing. Sure enough, she turned around and his smile grew. Lacie took a sip from her cup.

“Would you look at that. I … I’ve got to go over there.”

Melinda’s mouth was opening and closing as Lacie walked away from her, and Dean just smiled as he leaned over, resting his elbows and forearms on the counter.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”   
“It was Lacie’s idea. Her last one, since I’ll be killing her shortly.”

Dean let out a laugh, watching as Melinda lifted the cup to her lips, her nose scrunching up before she ever sipped it. He smiled, reaching out and taking her cup, smelling it before taking a sip, then handing it back to her as he coughed once.

“Vodka. With a tiny bit of orange juice, I think.”   
“I don’t like orange juice.”

Dean smiled as he stepped closer to her.

“You don’t have to drink it. There’s all kinds of stuff here. Got a shit-ton of beer in the back. There’s actually a wine cellar.”

Melinda’s cheeks grew red, and Dean smiled.

“You don’t drink, do you?”

She let out a sigh.

“I never have before. I don’t …”

She sighed again. He reached over and took the cup, setting it on the counter.

“It’s all right. You don’t have to.”   
“You are.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Doesn’t mean you have to. And it’s not my first time, so…”

Melinda blew out her breath, crossing her arms. Dean reached over, running his hands over her shoulders and arms.

“Cold?”   
“A little. I think the air’s on in here.”

Dean smiled as he shrugged off his letter jacket.

“You get hot as hell when you drink. Easier for everyone if it’s cool.”

He draped his jacket over her shoulders, and she reached up, gently touching the collar. She looked up, right into his eyes. He whispered softly.   
“Better?”

She just nodded, and he smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t want you to be cold.”

She swallowed, and he smiled. He reached down and took her hand.

“Come on.”

He led her into what looked to be an office, sitting down on the couch, smiling up at her as he patted the seat next to him. She sat down, and an hour later, they were laughing, sitting as closely as they could. Dean had his arm stretched over the back of the couch, and every now and then, he’d lay his hand on Melinda’s shoulder, as if he was pulling her closer. A while back, she’d laid her hand on his leg without even realizing it, even though he felt as though her touch was burning into his thigh. Lacie had gone searching for Melinda at one point, glancing into the office, smiling widely as she saw them, backing away before either of them could see her. Melinda smiled over at him, and Dean moved his hand to gently twirl her hair around his fingers. She took in a breath, then leaned into his touch. His hand faltered just a bit, before he continued.

“So, Mel.”   
“Yes.”   
“Don’t you think there’s something we need to talk about?”

Melinda let out a sigh.

“I was afraid of that.”

Dean smiled, continuing to twirl her hair.

“It doesn’t mean anything, you know. You don’t have to follow through. We can just pretend it never happened.”

Melinda let out another sigh.

“No, I … I took the bet.”   
“Christ, Mel. You’re acting like I’m asking for a pint of blood or your heart or something.”

She smiled, glancing up at him from behind her glasses.

“I, uh …”

She blew out her breath.

“Crap.”

Dean sat up, letting his hand fall from her hair.

“Don’t tell me you—“   
“Don’t say it.”

She moved a hand over the hair that was pulled back into her ponytail, sitting up straighter.

“I’m the seventeen-year-old that’s never … Oh, God.”

She covered her face with her hands and Dean let out a laugh.

“Hey, come on.”

He pulled her hands from her face and smiled at her.

“It’s okay. I got to tell you, I don’t hate it.”

He reached over, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“It’s actually … Actually a really nice thought.”

And it made him feel incredibly inadequate. He started to scoot away from her, stopping when she wrapped a hand around his wrist. He looked up, seeing the determination in her clear blue eyes. She swallowed as he turned his hand over, linking his fingers with hers.

“Dean, I … I don’t know what’s going on here. I mean, you could have any girl you wanted and—“   
“You. I don’t want any girl, Mel. Just you.”

Her mouth was so dry. She half-wanted to reach out and take a sip of the beer he’d grabbed on the way in the room, but she’d gotten a smell of it, and that had turned her off immediately.

“I don’t get you.”

He smiled.

“Damnedest thing, I don’t get you, either. I don’t get why someone as smart and beautiful and awesome as you are would give me the time of day.”

She looked to him with wide eyes, and he shook his head.

“You deserve someone a lot better than me.”

She just stared at him, until he lifted his eyes to hers. She shook her head just a little bit, giving him a smile.

“I don’t know. You seem pretty good to me.”

Dean smiled. If she only knew… He shook his head, blinking as she took a deep breath, shifting on the couch, scooting closer to him. She swallowed, looking at his lips, then his eyes.

“I follow through on my bets, Winchester.”   
“Oh, yeah?”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. Dean reached out and ran his thumb along her lip, getting it from between her teeth. He smiled, moving his hand to cup her face. Melinda took in a sharp breath and he whispered gently.

“Relax.”   
“I might be bad at it.”

He laughed quietly.

“Lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher.”

She let out a laugh as Dean leaned forward. He was so close she could feel his breath against her lips. Her eyes drifted close, but he didn’t move. She opened her eyes again, seeing his emerald eyes focused on her, and a smile crossed her face. Feeling a sudden surge of courage, she moved, pressing her lips to his. She felt his other hand come up to rest against her cheek, and she moved her hand to grip his thigh. They kept their eyes open, looking at each other, and when Melinda moved back, her cheeks were flushed. Dean kept her face in his hands, running his thumb along her cheek as a smile crossed his face.

“You did good.”   
“Don’t …”

He gave her a look, and the word was barely audible.

“Again.”

Dean blinked, then nodded, moving closer to her, pulling her face to him, meeting her lips with his own. He watched as her eyes drifted closed, and as he kissed her, his did the same. He tasted like beer. Beer and … something else. Something a little dark and delicious. Melinda couldn’t help the little sigh she gave, and before she even realized it, she was laying back on the couch, stretched out with Dean hovering over her. His hands had slid off her face and were now at her hips, his thumbs rubbing circles above the pockets on her jeans. He moved from her lips, kissing her jaw, down to her neck, and her hands came up to tangle in his hair as she let out a sharp breath. Dean came back, nearly crushing his mouth to hers, and she met him with equal fervor. She took in a sharp gasp when she felt his hand against the bare skin of her lower back and she blinked open her eyes, feeling him press his lips against her neck again.

“Wait. D—Dean, wait.”

He lifted his head, green eyes glazed over with lust and the beer he’d been drinking. Melinda was damn near panting on the couch, and she lifted a shaking hand to press against his shoulder. He blinked at her, looking down, then closing his eyes.

“Fuck.”

Dean lowered his forehead to hers, just for a moment, then sat up. He pushed his hands through his hair as she lifted shaking hands to tuck the loose hair behind her ears. She sat up, pulling her legs close to her, and Dean let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry, Mel. Damn it, I didn’t mean to go that far.”   
“No, it … It’s okay.”

Dean blew out his breath.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

She bit her lip, looking to him and smiling.

“Well, I mean… In the history of first kisses, that has to rank pretty high up near the top.”

Dean smiled at that.

“Baby, that went straight from first kiss to your first makeout session.”

Melinda laughed, resting her head on her knees for a moment. She just looked at Dean, and he just looked at her, until he reached over and took one of her hands from around her knees, holding it in his own. She looked from their hands to his face, and he leaned forward, using his other hand to cup her cheek, gently pressing his lips to hers again. Melinda blinked open her eyes when the kiss was over, and Dean kept caressing her cheek with his thumb. After a moment, Melinda cleared her throat, speaking quietly.

“I should … I should go find Lacie. It’s late.”   
“You could stay. We’re all pretty much just going to chill here.”

Melinda went to open her mouth, and Dean gave her a smile that just absolutely made her weak in the knees.

“Stay with me, Mel.”

She swallowed, then spoke again.

“Let … Let me find Lacie.”

Dean grinned, then stood up, albeit slowly, before reaching a hand to her, helping her up, keeping hold of her hand as they made their way through the house. Dean snorted when he saw Ash leaned back on the couch, mouth wide open as he slept. They walked through the house, finally finding Lacie curled up on a couch, sound asleep, a cup still in her hand. Melinda shook her head, reaching out and taking the cup, and Dean brought a blanket over, draping it over the sleeping girl on the couch.

“Thanks.”   
“No problem.”

He took her hand again, leading her down a hall, opening some doors to a den. Melinda’s eyebrows raised, and Dean just smiled. He walked over to the couch, picking up three blankets. Melinda watched him, and he motioned for her to follow him. She did, hugging his jacket tighter around her when they walked outside. She followed him, though, out to a beautiful old car.

"Whoa."

Dean smiled, laying the blankets on the top of the car and reaching in his pocket.

"This is yours?"  
"My dad's. But he's got this huge truck, so he gave Baby to me."  
"You call your car 'Baby'?"

Dean unlocked the door, then looked over at her.

"If you had this beauty, wouldn't you call her Baby?"

Melinda smiled.

"Well, you've got a point."

Dean laughed, motioning to the backseat. Melinda opened the passenger's side door and watched as Dean spread a blanket over the seat. When he was done, she climbed in, and he climbed in on the opposite side. He moved right beside her, covering her with one of the blankets, then draping the other one over his lap. He set his arm on the seat behind her, turning to smile at her. The breath caught in his throat as her hand cupped the side of his face, pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his. When she leaned back, he blinked, and she smiled. She wrapped one arm around him, laying her head on his shoulder. He cleared his throat, wrapping his arm around her, pulling her closer.

* * *

 

“Shit. Mel, wake up. Come on, wake up!”

Melinda groaned, opening one eye and glaring at Lacie with it.

“What?”   
“We got to go.”   
“Why? What time is it?”   
“Like seven.”   
“Jesus, Lace.”

Melinda laid back down, then opened her eyes, propping herself up, eyes widening when she realized that she had been sleeping practically on top of Dean. Oh, hell. There was no "practically" about it. She'd been on top of him. She looked to Lacie, with her messed-up hair and mascara-smudged eyes, who was standing with the car door in one hand, the other covering her yawning mouth. 

“We should have been home hours ago.”

Melinda yawned, then nodded.

“We’ll stop somewhere and pick up doughnuts. Pretend we got in late, then got up early to get breakfast. Then, for the love of God, let’s take a nap.”   
“You’re my hero.”

Melinda gingerly made her way off of Dean, hitting her head once on the roof of the car, climbing out of the car, stretching when she stood up, yawning again. Lacie nodded towards her car, and Melinda nodded. She looked at the boy sprawled on the backseat of the muscle car, feeling something twist in her heart. She didn’t want to leave him. She let out a sigh, bending down, laying a kiss on his cheek before she gently shut the door, making sure she didn't wake him up before she walked away.


	12. I Can't Do It Again

“No, I’m fine. I promise. … I’ve got plenty of firewood. You filled me up before you left the other night. … Yes. … He’s doing okay. I’m thinking of seeing if Lacie can bring the ultrasound over here to check him out. … Yeah, that’d be great. … You, too. Stay warm, Benny.”

Melinda hung up the phone, letting out a breath as she rubbed her belly. She glanced out the window, shivering involuntarily when she saw the snow swirling outside. She turned and walked into the living room, going ahead and putting another log on the fire.

“You should … shouldn’t be lifting … heavy things.”

Melinda smiled, glancing over her shoulder.

“Benny cut these up for me, made sure they were light enough for me to just toss in there. Feeling better?”

Dean nodded, turning his head as he coughed. Melinda walked over, laying a hand against his head.

“Still cool.”

Dean nodded again.

“How are you breathing?”   
“Better.”

Melinda smiled, nodding.

“You hungry?”

And soon, Dean was sitting at the table in the kitchen, sweating from exerting himself in the short walk from the couch to the table. Melinda had helped him hobble along, walking slower than any grandparent he’d ever seen, helping him sit before walking to the stove and pulling out a pot. He coughed again, shaking his head and rubbing his chest. Melinda looked over at him.

“Okay?”

He nodded, giving her a thumbs up. She smiled, chopping things and dropping them into the pot. He watched her for a while. Watching Melinda cook had always been fascinating for him.

“Hey, Mel?”   
“Hmm?”

She didn’t turn around to look at him, just continued with her task. Dean let out a sigh, coughing a bit and clearing his throat.

“Can … Can we talk?”

He watched as she faltered, just for a second, before nodding. Dean nodded, then took in a breath. Melinda cut him off, though, before he could speak.

“Can I start?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but she turned from the stove to face him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

* * *

 

Sometimes, Melinda really hated being pregnant. This was one of those times. As soon as she’d said the words to Dean, she turned and clicked off the stove, then hurried out of the kitchen. She locked herself in the bathroom, once again cursing whoever came up with the term “morning sickness” and the idiot who had agreed and claimed it disappeared after the first trimester. She groaned as she made her way into a sitting position, on the edge of the bathtub. She rubbed her belly, feeling the baby gently roll around, and she smiled. Every time she got sick, the baby would ease up on its movements. Almost like it knew.

“We’re okay, kid. We’re going to be just fine.”

When she felt steady again, she made her way to the sink, washing her hands and brushing her teeth. She made her way back to the kitchen, and found Dean exactly where she had left him. He lifted those emerald eyes to her, giving her a soft smile.

“You okay?”

She smiled back, nodding. She went back to the stove, turning it on again, resuming her task of cooking.

“Yeah, I just … Sometimes it just hits me out of nowhere.”

Dean nodded.

“Sometimes … Sometimes I can remember my mom. When she was pregnant with Sammy. Like how … how she always wanted those little sweet pickles. And how the smell of Dad’s aftershave made her sick.”

Melinda smiled.

“Benny came by one time with beef stew from the diner in town. The week before, we’d eaten it for lunch together and I was talking how it was so delicious. That day, though…”

Melinda shuddered.

“Now, even the thought turns my stomach.”

Dean smiled, watching as Melinda held one hand on her stomach as she leaned to grab a spoon, stirring whatever was in the pot and beginning to smell amazing. She set the spoon down, reaching to wipe her hands on the towel tied to the oven’s handle. She looked to him, and he gave her a soft smile.

“Thirsty?”

Dean nodded, and Melinda opened the fridge, pouring him a glass of Gatorade, walking it over to him. He reached to take it from her, brushing her fingers with his, and she let her eyes close before she pulled her hand away, laying it against her belly. She walked back to the stove, and he set the cup down, closing his eyes as he swallowed.

“Mel, listen—“   
“No. Dean, just … Don’t.”

He let out a sigh, looking over to her.

“I need to talk to you.”   
“You can barely get a sentence out without running out of breath.”   
“This is important.”

She blew out her breath, stirring the pot again. After a moment, she turned to face him.

“Can I be real for a second?”

He nodded, and she turned the stove down before walking over and sitting across the table from him.

“You’ve been really sick. And you still kind of are. This storm has locked us in here. We’ll be fine, but I’m worried about you. Just focus on getting better, and I promise you, we can talk later. Okay?”

Dean just stared at her for a minute, then nodded. Melinda let out a breath as she nodded back rubbing a hand slowly over the top of her belly. She looked down, smiling as the baby moved, then looked back up, meeting Dean’s eyes again.

“I missed you so much.”

She blinked at his whispered statement. He’d discovered that if he whispered, he could get the words out better than if he tried to speak normally.

“Ever since I woke up and you were gone, all your stuff was gone… I felt like a part of me was gone, too.”

Melinda nodded.

“Is that why you overdosed? Again?”

She pushed her chair back, walking back over to the stove as Dean closed his eyes. After a moment of silence, Dean spoke again.

“Mel, I …”

He sighed, and she spoke quietly.

“You don’t get it. You don’t know what it was like.”   
“I do.”   
“No, you don’t.”

She wouldn’t turn around, couldn’t face him as she spoke.

“Ten years. I watched you spiral out of control for ten years, Dean. I tried to fix you, tried to save you, and I couldn’t. When I finally realized that… God, it sucked so bad.”

She shook her head, and Dean just listened.

“I thought I wouldn’t make it, after I left. And then, I had barely walked through the door and Sam was calling me, telling me that you had done it again. But this time, you died for three whole minutes before they brought you back.”

Dean closed his eyes at the sudden prickling of tears. Melinda continued talking.

“From a medical standpoint, I knew what that meant. How there was a huge chance you’d never be the same again. Brain damage was a definite. And I had just left.”

She shook her head as she turned around, giving him an almost-wounded look.

“I blamed myself for a long time. And the hardest thing I’ve ever done was stay away. But Sam kept calling me, kept me up-to-date. By some miracle, you woke up fine. No brain damage. Told me he’d basically forced you into rehab, gave you the ‘this time is the last straw’ ultimatum.”

A smile crossed her face.

“I’m not going to lie; I was shocked when months went by and you were still there. I wouldn’t let myself think that this time would be the one that would stick. But I was … a little preoccupied, too.”

She looked down as she laid a hand on her belly, a soft smile crossing her face as the baby rolled. She looked up and met his eyes again.

“And then you show up here. And I get a call from Sam that said you skipped out. Again, Dean.”   
“It’s different this time.”

Melinda nodded.

“I remember the last time you said that. Wasn’t that when you started the OxyContin? Before you went back to the heroin you loved more than me?”   
“Mel.”   
“I want to believe you, Dean. I honestly do. I really wish I could. But I can’t. Not again. You have put me through hell, and I have finally realized I deserve more than that. And added to that, I have bigger things to worry about now. It’s not just me anymore, and I will be damned if I let you anywhere near my child. He or she will not have to sit back and wonder if, every time the phone rings, this will be the call that tells them that your stupid 'Winchester luck' has finally run out and you’re dead.”

She shook her head, turning back to the stove, dropping the spoon and grabbing onto the counter, letting out a harsh breath.

“Shit. No.”

Dean got to his feet, slowly made his way to her.

“Mel.”   
“Don’t.”   
“Come and sit down.”

She breathed out, cradling her belly in a hand as she felt him lay a hand on her shoulder, leading her, very slowly, back to the table. He helped her in a chair, then nearly collapsed in the one beside her. She shook her head as he took her hand, giving out a sigh when he gave it a weak squeeze.

“Talk to me.”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks.

“I can’t …”

She groaned, and Dean gently rubbed her back. She shook her head again, looking at him with tears glistening in her blue eyes.

“It can’t come now. It’s too soon.”

Dean nodded, reaching to gently run his fingers through her hair, tucking some behind her ear.

“It won’t come.”   
“She’s not ready.”   
“She won’t come yet. Just breathe, Mel.”

Melinda let out a strangled sob, holding a hand to her belly. She shook her head again, and Dean kept touching her, holding one of her hands, running his other up and down her arm.

“Breathe, sunshine. It’s okay.”

Melinda went absolutely still when Dean started humming, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a maelstrom of emotions as he continued humming the song. After what seemed like forever, the pain subsided. When it didn’t start back up, she let out a shaky sigh. As the minutes passed by with no more pain, she let out a long breath. She opened her eyes to see Dean watching her, still holding her hand.

“You okay?”

She let out another breath as she nodded. Dean nodded as well, before he spoke.

“What the hell was that?”

Melinda smiled, patting her belly.

“Braxton-Hicks contractions. I’ve been having them a lot recently. They’re , uh … Well, they can be brought on by stress.”

Dean let out a sigh.

“Because of me.”

Melinda looked down at her stomach, then over to him.

“Let’s just … Let’s not worry about it right now, okay? We’ll worry about getting you better, get through this storm, and then we can have it out. Sound good?”

Dean sighed, but nodded. Melinda smiled, standing back up.

“Okay, then.”

She walked to the stove, stirring the pot again with a shaking hand.

“Thank you.”

The words were so quiet, spoken more to the pot than to Dean. He smiled softly, shaking his head.

“Don’t mention it.”   
“I can’t … I can’t believe you remembered.”   
“You don’t forget something like that, Mel.”

She swallowed, nodding her head. She looked up, trying not to let her mind drift back, even as she knew it was a losing fight.


	13. You Are My Sunshine

_Ten Years Ago_

“Dean.”   
“Mm-hmm?”   
“Dean, we … We need to study.”   
“Okay.”   
“We really … really need to … Oh, god.”

Melinda whirled around in her chair, and Dean smiled as she reached up, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down, meeting his mouth with her own. That was what he’d been waiting for, the sole reason he’d been kneading her shoulders before he began pressing little kisses against her neck. When he’d latched on to the spot where her neck and shoulder met … Yahtzee. She let her head fall back with a groan, and Dean smiled against her chin as he caught it easily in his hand. He used that hand to massage the back of her head (he’d slipped her ponytail out without her noticing) and traced kisses up and down her jaw. He could feel her fingers tightening on his biceps, and he just smiled as he continued to kiss her.

“We need to study.”

Her voice was barely audible, and Dean just grinned as he let his hand drift down to grasp hers, still holding her head up with his other.

“Maybe later. Right now, I just want to do this.”

He went back to kissing just under her earlobe, and she let out a whine.

“This isn’t going to help us pass that bio test.”   
“Yeah, but aren’t you learning a lot?”

She snorted, and he pulled back, giving her a smile.

“You aren’t? I sure as hell am.”   
“Oh, really? And what could you possibly be learning?”

Dean’s smile grew.

“For instance, I learned that kissing you right here?”

He slowly dragged his finger along the place where her neck and shoulder met, causing her to close her eyes and suck in a breath.

“That’s your weak spot. Although you do enjoy it when I kiss over here—“

Her chin.

“Here.”

Behind her ear.

“And definitely right here.”

He bent and pressed his lips to hers, feeling her hands come up and card through his hair. She groaned quietly, and Dean moved, bringing her with him as he sat on the trunk at the end of her bed, bringing her to sit backwards on his lap, facing him. She shook her head as he peppered kisses across her cheekbones.

“I’m not ready for—“   
“Shh. We’re not going that far. I just want to make you feel good. Show you there’s more to life than keeping your nose in those damn books.”

Melinda smiled, not opening her eyes as he continued to kiss her face.

“But we need to get in a good college, Dean.”   
“Eh, fuck college.”

She giggled, letting it trail off into a moan as she squeezed his shoulders, as he laved his tongue across what he’d just referred to as her “weak spot.” Dean smiled, moving his hands to grasp handfuls of her hair, while she let her hands drift down, cupping his elbows. He moved back to her mouth, kissing her again, until they heard a door slam. Melinda pulled away from him, glancing at the door, then to the clock beside her bed. She let out a sigh, letting her head drop onto his chest. He smiled, gently stroking his fingertips up and down her spine.

“Baby?”   
“Chris is home.”

Dean sighed, nodding his head. Melinda’s older brother was a humongous pain in his ass. He absolutely hated Dean, and made no moves to hide it from anyone. He was mean to Melinda, but she swore to Dean, over and over again, that he never hit her. He was just mad, she’d said, at the world.

“Do I need to go?”

Melinda sighed, and Dean reached down, taking both of her hands, lifting them to his chest. She shrugged her shoulders and he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her again.

“If you need me…”   
“You’re just a phone call away, I know.”

Dean nodded. She climbed off his lap and he stood up, stretching, slipping his leather jacket on. He gave her a smile, then walked to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her, long and deep. She felt her legs turn to jelly, and Dean just smiled. He pressed one last kiss to her forehead, then walked to her door. He glanced back at her.

“You’ll ace the Bio test.”   
“And what about you?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“You sit beside me. You’re bound to flip your hair or push your glasses up your nose at some point.”

Melinda laughed, and Dean quickly left. He liked to leave her smiling, laughing in some way. He ignored Chris’ glare as he walked through the living room, going out to his car, looking up and smiling when he saw Melinda watching him from her bedroom window. He gave her a wink, watched her tuck her hair behind her ear, and he lifted his wrist, showing her the ponytail holder he’d snagged. She shook her head, and he just smiled as he climbed in his car and drove off.

* * *

 

Three-seventeen A.M., Dean's cell phone was ringing, jolting him out of a peaceful sleep. He didn’t even look at the number, heart pounding way too fast to think clearly. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly so damn dry.

“He—Hello?”   
_“Dean?”_

He sat up.

“Mel?”

He could hear her shaky breaths, way too quick and shallow.

“Mel, what is it? What’s wrong?”

He was out of bed before she finished her sentence.

“Where are you? … I’m on my way, baby. Hang on.”

He was dressed and out the door in record time. He’d somehow managed to scribble a note for Sam and/or his dad, leaving it on the kitchen table as he’d bolted from the house. He didn’t remember grabbing the keys, starting the car, peeling out of the driveway. He didn’t remember speeding down the streets, ignoring stop signs and red lights. He didn’t remember pulling into the parking lot and running inside, beneath the red, lit-up letters that spelled out EMERGENCY. She was sitting on a chair, legs bouncing, huddled under a blanket someone had given her. Dean let out a sigh, jogging over, calling out her name, and she looked to him, eyes wide and unblinking as she stood to her feet. The blanket fell to the floor as she wrapped her arms around him, as he let out a sigh and held her close.

“Are you all right?”

She was trembling in his arms. He decided she had to be in shock or something, because she wouldn’t answer him. Her eyes were so big, so blue, and her face was so pale. He ran his hand through her hair, using his other to hold her close.

“Mel, what happened?”

She was quiet, still shaking in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as a nurse came down the hall. From the nurse, Dean learned that Melinda’s father had had a heart attack. She did what she could to help him, and he was in surgery at the moment. Her brother was nowhere to be found, and Dean wanted to kill him. He followed the nurse down the hall to a private waiting room, basically leading Melinda that way, and he sat in a chair, pulling her into his lap. She curled up, getting as close to him as she possibly could, and Dean held her, gently stroking her hair. After what seemed like forever, she spoke softly.

“I hate hospitals.”

Dean nodded.

“I know what you mean.”

She shook her head.

“No, I … I don’t think you do.”   
“Tell me.”

She sighed, settling her head on his shoulder, where he could feel her breath on his neck with every word she spoke.

“When my—my mom had … had the accident, I was … I was in the car, too.”

Dean went still, looking down, but Melinda never looked at him. She moved a hand to the amulet Dean wore around his neck, a long-ago Christmas present from his little brother.

“Mel.”   
“We were coming home from—from Wyatt’s basketball practice. I had piano after school, so I just stayed afterwards until Mom or Dad could come pick us up. It was late, this time. I was tired, and whiny. It was my turn to sit in the front seat, and I … I didn’t want to. I climbed in the backseat because I could lay down, and it was kind of a long drive to our house.”

He could feel the tears soaking through his shirt, but her voice was steady. He didn’t say anything, and she continued on.

“I fell asleep, almost after buckling my seatbelt. I could hear Mom and Wyatt laughing, talking about their days, his practice. I woke up kind of suddenly, with a jerk, because the seatbelt was digging into my back.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, dropping the amulet and draping her arm over Dean’s shoulder. He pulled her even closer, tightening his hold on her.

“I unbuckled, sitting up, and I knew something was wrong when … when I put my hand on the—the seat and cut it on the glass. Some had fallen on my face, on my forehead, and I had a bunch of little cuts on my face. I look—looked around, and there was …”

She gasped, and Dean gently rubbed his hand up and down her back.

“Smoke was pouring from the car. Ours, and the one that hit us. My head was hurting, and I realized later that the book Wyatt had gotten out to study a little bit had flown out of his hands and into the backseat, hitting my head. Gave me a nice little concussion.”

She was shaking again, and Dean gently tried to calm her down, rubbing his hands over her. She shook her head.

“I crawled over to the front seat, and Wyatt was—he—“

She gasped again, letting out a broken breath, and Dean kissed her forehead gently.

“Wyatt was slumped over, with his chin on his chest. His neck was broken. He was dead before I ever woke up. His eyes were closed, and the air bag was slowly deflating around him. I looked over, and Mom was … God.”

She hugged Dean tighter, and he tightened his hold on her, as well.

“She was still alive, and she smiled at me. Her face was cut to hell, and she was bleeding. She was slumped over, with her head on the airbag, on the steering wheel. She told me everything would be okay. She reached out her hand and I took it, and it was … it was covered in blood. She wanted—me to—to sing to her, so I did. My head hurt so bad, but I did it.”

She sobbed, and Dean closed his eyes as he held her.

“I had a hard time remembering the words, because of the concussion, but I did the best I could.”

“What did you sing?”

Melinda smiled through the tears in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks.

_“You Are My Sunshine_. She used to sing that song to me. She had my whole life. She called me 'Sunshine,' from the song and my hair. Chris' hair was always so dark, and Wyatt's was just a little bit darker than mine. Mama used to tell me I had sunshine hair."

She smiled, before her lips began to tremble. She swallowed, and went on with her story.

"After I sang, I ... I remember watching her as she watched me, a smile on her face as her breathing got more and more shallow. I looked up to see the lights from the police cars and the firetruck, and Mama started crying.”

Melinda closed her eyes, speaking clearly.

“She was crushed between the steering wheel and her seat. I don’t even know how she’d been talking to me. The impact snapped her spine, crushed her legs, and a piece of glass was embedded in her leg, right on the femoral artery. She was going to die. As soon as they moved her, she was going to bleed out. And I think she knew it.”

Melinda blinked as she lifted a hand to wipe her face.

“She’d stayed awake to talk to me, to get me to stay awake and talk to her. She told me how wonderful I was, how thankful she was to be my mother. She told me to take care of Dad and Chris, to not be afraid, and to follow my dreams. She told me to fall in love with someone who pushed my buttons, made me mad, and made me a better person.”

Melinda blinked again, wiping her face again as her mother’s voice echoed in her head.

_“Be good for me, sunshine. Be kind to people and love them, no matter how they hurt you. Find someone and love him fiercely, and when you find him, don’t let him go.”_   
_“I’m scared, Mama.”_   
_“I know, baby. But everything’s going to be all right. I promise. Sing for me again, sunshine.”_

She closed her eyes, leaning her head onto Dean’s chest.

“She lived for that little while to make sure I would be okay. I know now that she was fighting the entire time, taking every breath through pure stubbornness. When the police and everyone showed up, she started to cry. They came to check on us, and she told them to get me out, take care of me. She wouldn’t let them touch her, or Wyatt, or even the car until I was out, in Darryl’s arms. Darryl carried me to the ambulance, and he rode in there with me to the hospital.”

Dean pressed a kiss to her forehead, resting his head on top of hers.

“Wyatt was dead, of course. They tried to save Mama, but … She bled out as soon as they moved her. They brought her to the hospital anyway, and Wyatt, too. I had to stay in the hospital for a while, and I didn’t …”

She shook her head.

“They were right there. We were in the same place, but I couldn’t see them. They were gone, and I knew that, but I … I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Dad sat with them for hours. My uncle had to finally come and make him leave them. And then he came and sat with me, but … It was different. He was different.”

Dean sighed as he tightened his grip on her. Melinda opened her eyes, reaching to play with Dean’s amulet again.

“I don’t think Dad ever got over losing her. He changed after the accident. Like he … Like he just gave up. Chris basically shut down for a couple of months, and I—I was pretty much on my own. Bruised and broken, too young to deal with losing my mother and brother all by myself, but I did it. Then, one day, Chris got sent home for beating the hell out of some kid at school. Dad didn’t do anything to him, so I … I guess it never occurred to him to act any differently. Dad did step in once when Chris was yelling at me, though.”

Melinda swallowed, speaking softly.

“Chris, he … He blames me. And he has every right to. If I’d been sitting in the front instead of Wyatt, Chris would still have his best friend.”   
“Whoa. Hang on.”

Melinda rubbed her hand over her face. Dean made her sit up and look at him, and he shook his head.

“That accident was not your fault.”   
“But he’s right.”

Dean’s eyes widened as Melinda wiped her cheeks.

“I should have been in the front seat. I should have been the one that … Not—not Wyatt.”   
“Don’t say that.”   
“It’s true. I lost everything in that hospital and I … I hate them now. I hate being here right now. I just want to go home. I want things to be like they used to be. I hate this.”

Dean sighed, wrapping her back up in his arms, holding her tight to his chest. After a while of silence, she started softly humming _You Are My Sunshine_ , and he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand up and down her back, kissing her forehead, closing his eyes as he listened to her. They looked up as a doctor walked into the room, Melinda unfolding herself from Dean’s lap, and he stood behind her as the doctor reached up to remove his scrub cap.

And he was close enough to catch her as she crumpled to the floor.


	14. It's Getting Better All the Time

A week later, the snow had finally melted. There was soft dusting on the ground from the night before, but it was nowhere near as thick or deep as the snow had been during the storm. Dean stood at the window, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding the coffee cup that he kept lifting to his lips, feeling the bitter liquid warm his throat and settle in his stomach. He heard a creak on the stairs behind him, a smile crossing his face when he saw her, honey-colored hair curling gently around her head, wrapped in a fluffy robe, leopard-print slippers on her feet.

“Morning.”

Melinda waved a hand at him, and he let out a quiet laugh. She never had been a morning person. He finished his coffee, walking into the kitchen where she’d just gone, finding her with one hand on the counter, the other around a glass of apple juice. He walked to the sink, washing out his cup before he placed it in the dishwasher.

“How you feeling this morning?”

Melinda shrugged her shoulders.

“Okay, I think. So far so good.”

Dean smiled, nodding his head.

“Think you could handle some breakfast?”

Melinda laid a hand to her belly.

“I think we could handle that.”

Dean nodded again, walking to the refrigerator. Melinda walked over to the table, sitting down and letting out a long breath. She stared out the French doors, smiling when she saw a cardinal, the bright red of his feathers a stark contrast to the brilliant white of the ground.

“You know, I … I keep waiting for it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get tired of the snow. I mean, I know we had it in Kansas, but not … Not like this.”  
“And California was so warm.”

She nodded, glancing at him, but he stayed at the stove with his back to her. She sighed, looking back out the windows.

“It’s just so pure, and it’s … I don’t know how, but it’s peaceful.”

She stared at the snow, glistening and sparkling in the sunlight, before turning in her chair and sipping her juice again. She looked to the stove, catching Dean as he was staring at her. He smiled, looking down as he turned back to the stove, his cheeks growing red. Melinda smiled, rubbing a hand over her belly as the baby moved.

“You know we’re heading to the clinic today, right?”

Dean sighed.

“Mel, come on.”   
“I don’t want to hear that, Dean. You were very sick. And just because you feel better does not mean you’re perfectly healthy.”

Dean sighed again, reaching into the cabinet for plates.

“Do I have to get another shot?”

Melinda smiled as she leaned back in her chair, one hand absently rubbing her belly.

“What are you, six?”

He shot her a look that made her laugh.

“I can’t promise anything. I do know that you’ll be getting a chest x-ray and probably another ultrasound.”   
“Oh, great. All day with Lacie again. Mel, she hates me.”

Melinda pursed her lips, shrugging her shoulders. Dean sighed, flipping the burner off as he carried the plates to the table. He set one down in front of Melinda, reaching back to get forks and napkins to hand to her. He sat across from her, opening his mouth.

“Don’t even bother. I’m not budging on this one.”

Dean shut his mouth, shoulders slumping as Melinda giggled.

“Eat your breakfast. We need to get going soon.”

* * *

 

“Ow!”   
“Oh, shut up. That didn’t hurt.”   
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t have anyone shoving a needle into your—ow, damn it, Lacie!”

She bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

“What the hell do I need an IV for anyway?”   
“Because, Mr. I’m-Too-Busy-Whining-To-Listen, Mel wants a CT of your chest. We’ll be able to see better if we use contrast, contrast is administered through an IV, therefore…”

She held out her hands, and Dean scowled at her, reaching for his arm, and Lacie reached out, slapping his hand away.

“What the hell?!”   
“Don’t mess with it, or I’ll just have to stick you again. You know what? Now that I think about it, go ahead. Mess it up. I’d love to use you as my pincushion today.”

Dean looked down, damn near pouting, and Lacie just smiled.

“Come on. Relax, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

Dean followed her, looking through the glass and seeing Melinda standing there, behind a couple of monitors, in her long white coat. A pain went through his heart, like it had a tendency to do when he saw her in the coat. She should be a doctor. And the only reason she wasn’t was because of him.

“Winchester, get your head out of your ass. Come on.”

Dean closed his eyes as he let out a breath, turning to glare at Lacie again. She rolled her eyes.

“Sir, can you come and sit on this table for me? Lay on your back, and we can get this test over with.”

Dean had a smirk on his face as he sat on the table.

“What are you being so professional for? Your boss back there or something? Ow!”

Dean whirled around, one hand rubbing the back of his head. Lacie looked at him, her dark brown eyes wide.

“Sorry. My hand slipped.”   
“My ass.”   
“Believe what you want.”

Dean rubbed his head, scowling again.

“That’s assault, isn’t it?”   
“You want to test me, Winchester?”

Dean sighed, and Lacie rolled her eyes again.

“Jesus. Just lay back.”

He did, and she tossed a sheet over his legs.

“Listen to the machine. It’ll tell you when to breathe, stuff like that. Listen and do what it says.”   
“What if I need you for something?”

Lacie looked down, to see the charming smile Dean had on his face. She put a smile on, leaning to pat his shoulder.

“Then you’re shit out of luck.”

She left him laughing as the machine came to life. She closed the door behind her, walking to the computer and sitting down, Melinda sitting in the chair beside her, slowly turning back and forth. Lacie shook her head and smiled, typing on the computer, starting the scan. She glanced at Melinda, who shook her head.

“You promised you wouldn’t.”   
“Maybe I lied.”

Melinda sighed, lifting her head.

“There’s nothing to tell.”   
“Oh, sure. Never mind the fact that he looks at you now the same way he did every damn day of junior _and_ senior year.”

Melinda shrugged her shoulders, and Lacie let out an unbelieving laugh.

“Come on!”

Melinda sighed, pushing her hands through her hair. Lacie typed a few more times, then turned to face her best friend.

“Mel, he has put you through nine kinds of hell.”   
“Don’t you think I know that?”   
“Then what is he still doing here?”   
“He’s sick!”

The images popped up on the screen then, and both girls were quiet as they glanced through them. Melinda let out a breath of relief, and Lacie shook her head.

“Not anymore, he’s not. Clean as a whistle.”   
“Good. That’s … that’s good.”

Melinda nodded, then spoke quietly.

“Did you check his—“   
“Liver function seems normal here. Charlie came up while he was waiting and took some blood, said she’d run a couple tests and get the results to you.”

Melinda nodded, rubbing slow circles on her stomach. Lacie let out a sigh.

“Mel—”   
“I know. I know.”

She looked down, cradling her swollen stomach, and Lacie reached over, taking one of her hands.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Melinda nodded, lifting her head, looking tear-filled eyes at her best friend.

“I know. And I … it can’t happen this time. But Lace… He’s different.”

Lacie sighed.

“Melinda.”   
“I know. I do, but … I haven’t seen him like this. He’s been here for two weeks, and not once has he even mentioned drugs. Or alcohol. Do you know what that means? I know you don’t, because you didn’t have to live with it. But Lace … He used to not be able to go an hour or two without taking a drink or shooting up or at least talking about it. And now, the only way he talks about it is if I bring it up.”

Melinda pushed her hands through her hair.

“I know you don’t want to hear it.”  
“I don’t. I just feel like I’ve heard it before, you know? I’m tired of hearing this same old song when it comes to him, Mel.”

Melinda nodded, looking through the window, where she could see Dean laying on the table. He wasn’t jittery, like she’d seen him before. He was still, and she could remember a time when that was the hardest, most impossible thing for him to do.

“I’m telling you, Lace. This time is different. And damn him, I don’t want it to be.”

Lacie blinked.

“What?”

Melinda sighed.

“I don’t want him to be different. Well, I mean, yes. Of course, I want him to be different. I’m so glad he’s not strung out like he was. But I … I can’t sit around with baited breath, waiting to see if he comes home or not, if he’s got new track marks on his arms or not. Not … not now.”

Melinda looked down, rubbing her belly. Lacie let out a sigh, and after a minute, she reached over and pressed a button.

“You all right in there, Winchester?”   
“Do you really care?”

Melinda and Lacie shared a smile before Lacie leaned over again.

“No. But law requires me to ask.”

She turned the microphone off while he laughed. Melinda let out a sigh, then smiled, closing her eyes. She reached for Lacie’s hand, pressing it to the side of her belly. After a second, a brilliant smile broke out over Lacie’s face.

“Wow.”   
“Baby’s dancing.”

Lacie let out a quiet laugh, bringing her other hand to press against Melinda’s belly, feeling the baby shift and turn.

“Hi, baby. It’s your favorite Aunt Lacie.”

She and Melinda shared a laugh when a particularly hard kick landed under Lacie’s hand. Lacie leaned back, a smug smile on her face.

“It knows me. Already loves me.”

Melinda rolled her eyes, smiling and laying a hand on her belly. Lacie smiled until Melinda met her eyes again.

“I love you too, you know.”

Tears filled Melinda’s eyes again.

“I know.”

Her voice was quiet, and Lacie sighed as she glanced back into the exam room, then leaned over and took both of Melinda’s hands.

“I don’t want you to get hurt again.”   
“I know.”   
“Just be careful, Mel. Okay?”

Melinda nodded.

“I will.”   
“And if he fucks up, I will kill him myself.”

Melinda laughed, but nodded. Lacie nodded, then stood up, walking into the CT room. Dean blinked at her as she pressed buttons on the machine, moving him out of the machine and down to the floor.

“Did I pass my test?”   
“Doubtful.”

He smiled, and she helped him sit up. She walked to grab some gloves from the box, and Dean shook his head.

“Oh, no. Uh-uh.”   
“I’m going to take the IV out, dipshit.”   
“Not you. You’ll probably cut my arm off. There’s got to be someone else.”   
“There’s about 750 people in this town. You really think so?”

Dean swallowed, looking past Lacie, through the windows, seeing a smiling Melinda. He sent her a look he hoped was akin to the puppy dog eyes Sam could pull off so flawlessly. He watched her laugh, then get to her feet, graceful in her movements even while carrying a child. She walked through the door, giving Lacie a smile. Lacie shook her head.

“He is such a baby.”

Melinda laughed, holding out a hand, and Lacie handed over the gloves. Melinda slid them on with a practiced skill, rolling Dean’s shirtsleeve up as Lacie flipped on the overhead lights. Lacie stepped out of the room, and Melinda reached over, grabbing some gauze and a bright pink bandage.

“Really?”

Melinda shrugged her shoulders, but smiled. She began to pull the tape from around the IV. Dean winced, and she wrinkled up her nose.

“Sorry.”   
“It’s fine. Already better than Nurse Ratchet in there.”   
“I can hear you, dipshit. And I’m not a nurse, thank you very much.”

Melinda had to step away, propping one arm on her belly, laughing into her other wrist. Dean shook his head, a wide smile on his lips. After she’d calmed down, Melinda stepped back to him, going back to working on the tape.

“Now, you’re going to want to drink lots of water today, to help your kidneys get rid of that dye we injected.”

Dean nodded, and Melinda removed the last piece of tape.

“All right. Take in a deep breath for me.”

Dean took in a breath, never feeling as she pulled the IV out. He looked down to see her holding a piece of gauze to the crook of his arm, lifting it, then pressing it back down. She gave him a smile.

“Bleeding just a little bit.”

He nodded, and she replaced the gauze, wrapping the hot pink bandage around his elbow.

“There. Good as new.”

He smiled, nodding again, and she patted his arm. She turned, and he hopped off the table to catch her, hold her steady.

“Mel?” “I’m—I’m okay.”

He helped her sit on the table, and she lifted a hand to her head. Dean reached over and grabbed a pen from Melinda’s pocket, tossing it at the window. Lacie looked up from the computer, then hurried into the room.

“What happened?”

Melinda waved a hand at her.

“I’m fine. Just … Just got a little lightheaded.”

Dean was kneeling in front of her, holding her up with his hands on her arms, and Lacie let out a sigh.

“You need to go home.”   
“I’m fine.”   
“You’re eleven years pregnant and you’re overexerting yourself.”

She laughed when Melinda flipped her off.

“I mean it, Blondie. Go home and rest.”   
“I’ve done nothing but rest for weeks now with those stupid storms. I have patients.”   
“Yes, patients who love their very pregnant doctor and want her to be healthy so they can spoil her baby when—or if—little he or she ever decides to make his or her presence known.”

Melinda sighed, and Dean gently ran his hands up and down her arms.

“You know she’s right, Mel.”

Melinda sighed again, lifting her head to look into Dean’s eyes.

“Well, for the two of you to agree on something, it must be important.”   
“Or maybe a sign of the Apocalypse.”   
“Bite me, Winchester.”

He laughed, looking up into Melinda’s soft eyes.

“Let me take you home.”

Melinda nodded, letting out a breath.

“Okay.”


	15. Stand By You

_Ten Years Ago_

“Go for Dean.”  
 _“Seriously? That’s your greeting?”_

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, scrunching his nose up when he didn’t recognize the number.

“Who the hell is this?”

A longsuffering sigh came through the phone.

_“Lacie.”_

When Dean didn’t answer, another sigh sounded.

_“Lacie Tyson. I’m one of Melinda’s friends?”_

When he still didn’t answer, he could almost feel the snark in her tone.

 _“Seriously? We have World Civ together, for God’s sake. You copy my notes every day.”_  
“Oh! _Lacie_. Of course I know who you are.”

Lacie snorted.

 _"Score one for the quarterback._ ”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“There a reason you called me?”  
 _“No, I just wanted to bust your balls. Yes, there’s a reason, dumbass.”_

Dean grit his teeth, easing up when he heard Lacie sigh again.

_“Have you heard from Melinda today?”_

Dean tucked the phone against his shoulder as he walked over to the table in the garage where his dad kept all his tools.

“No, not today. I haven’t really been around the phone, but you’re the first call I’ve gotten today.”

Dean had spent the entire morning and half the afternoon working on his most prized possession, the ’67 Chevy Impala his dad had just recently handed him the keys to. He’d been sliding out from underneath the car after changing the oil when Sam had brought his phone outside.

_“I was afraid of that.”_

Dean straightened up, laying the tool aside and taking the phone back in his hand.

“Lacie?”  
 _“Look, I just … I’m worried about her. Her dad just died.”_  
“It’s been a week, Lace.”

She sighed.

_“I know. But we always talk. Like, at least once a day. And if we don’t talk, we text. She hasn’t even texted me today.”_

Dean nodded.

“Do you want me to go over there?”  
 _“No. No, I … I’ll do it.”_

Dean nodded again.

“Hey, Lacie?”  
“ _Yeah?_ ”  
“Call me when you see her.”  
“ _I will, Dean. Thanks.”_

Dean just stared at his phone after Lacie hung up. His mind drifted back to that horrible night, when he met her at the hospital, helpless to do anything but hold her as she cried. He’d stayed with her, despite his father and Bobby’s gentle suggestions, standing by her side at the funeral. They’d laid Leo to rest on Saturday, beside his wife and son, and Dean had been the one to, after everyone else was gone, convince Melinda to walk away. She’d finally forced him to go home last night, and even before Lacie called, he was planning on going over to check on her. Now, though…

“You in there, boy?”

Dean blinked, glancing over, seeing Bobby’s rugged face in front of him. He blinked again, and Bobby sighed. He reached out a hand, squeezing Dean’s shoulder, pushing past him to grab a wrench from the messy pile of tools. Bobby turned, leaning back against the table.

“All right. Out with it.”

Dean shook his head.

“Out with what?”  
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, you idjit.”

Dean smiled, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“Something’s obviously bothering you. Let’s let our feelings out, princess.”

Dean let out a laugh, then turned to face Bobby. He sighed, leaning back against his car, crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Mel. I’m worried about her.”

Bobby nodded, letting out a breath.

“I thought as much.”

Dean nodded.

“She’s an orphan now, Bobby. Just a couple years ago, her mom dies. Now her dad? It’s not fair.”  
“I know, kid. It … It sucks, to be honest.”

Dean nodded again, glancing away from Bobby.

“I just … I don’t know what to do to help her. If I’m even helping her at all. Maybe I’m smothering her. I don’t know.”  
“Dean.”

Dean glanced back, meeting Bobby’s gentle eyes.

“I was at the funeral. She was clinging to you. Whatever you’re doing, kid, keep on.”

Dean smiled, the tiniest bit, opening his mouth to reply to Bobby, but he was cut off by the shrill ringing of his phone. Bobby let out a breath and shook his head.

“Damn phones could wake the dead.”

Dean laughed as he flipped open the phone, seeing the number on the screen.

“Hello, Lacie. Better greeting this time? … What?”

The smile slid from Dean’s face, and Bobby stepped forward, laying a hand on Dean’s arm. Dean shook his head.

“No, Lace that’s—that’s not… I’m coming. I’m on my way, all right?”

Dean hung up the phone, looking up to Bobby. The older man shook his head, squeezing Dean’s shoulder.

“Go. Call when you can.”

Dean gave Bobby a grateful look, throwing the rag he’d been twisting around onto the table, catching the keys Bobby tossed to him, starting the car and peeling away. He drove to Melinda’s, barely turning off the engine before he was running up the front steps. He didn’t bother knocking; he just pushed open the door and walked inside.

Nothing had changed. Everything seemed the same, save for one missing photo, a picture of Piper and Leo on their wedding day. Dean walked through the dining room, walking up the stairs, seeing Lacie pacing at the top. He hurried up, and Lacie let out a breath, grabbing hold of his hands.

“I didn’t know what else to do.”  
“It’s fine. You did fine. Is she—“  
“In her room.”

Dean nodded, squeezing Lacie’s hands before letting them go, walking over and gently opening Melinda’s door. She was sitting on the floor beside her bed, facing away from him, staring out the window. He walked over, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Mel?”

She looked up, blue eyes wide behind her glasses. She seemed surprised to see him, blinking twice before turning her attention back out the window. Dean sat down next to her on the floor, just watching her as she looked out the window. After a while, he spoke quietly.

“Mel? Hey.”

He reached over and took her hand, and her eyes widened again, until she felt Dean’s rough thumb gently rubbing across the back of her hand. She blinked again, looking up to his face.

“Dean?”  
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here. What’s going on?”

Melinda looked down at their hands, then back to his face, shaking her head.

“It’s quiet. It’s too quiet.”

Dean nodded, and Melinda looked out the window again.

“It was never quiet before. We made so much noise, I don’t even know how Mom and Dad had the clarity of mind to even think. Wyatt and Chris were always so loud, but I … I was quiet. Except when I wanted to keep up with them.”

Melinda started slowly rocking back and forth, and Dean leaned closer to her.

“Mel, baby. What happened?”

Melinda shook her head, face scrunching up as tears welled up in her eyes.

“He—he left.”  
“Who did?”

Melinda tilted her head, letting out a quiet sob.

“Chris. He left this morning.”  
“Where did he go?”

Melinda shrugged her shoulders, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“He said he wasn’t my dad, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be my babysitter for the rest of his life.”

Melinda let out another sob, pulling her hand from Dean, twisting her hands together.

“He said he’d been waiting for some way to get the hell out, and this was it.”  
“Melinda.”

She shook her head, tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked up at him.

“He just left. Our dad just died, and he walked out on me. Who does that? Even if he hates me, how could he just leave me here alone?”

She could barely speak through her tears, sobs taking over her speech. Dean reached over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him, and she cried into his chest.

“You’re not alone, baby. As long as I’m here, you never will be.”


	16. Watching

“Pregnant, Dean. I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”   
“Just shut up and let me take care of you. For once.”

Melinda just watched as Dean draped the blanket over her. She laid a hand on her belly as he leaned back, looking down at her hand, then to her face. They just stared at each other for a minute, until Dean cleared his throat.

“Listen, I want you to rest, okay?”   
“Dean—“   
“Just humor me, all right?”

Melinda blew out her breath, reaching up to run her hands through her hair.

“Fine. I’ll rest.”   
“I mean it.”   
“Fine!”

Dean smiled, sitting down beside Melinda, on the edge of the couch.

“Really, though. How are you feeling?”

Melinda smiled.

“I feel fine. I was a little woozy at the hospital, and when we first got here. But I’m better now.”   
“Are you sure?”

Melinda’s smile went soft as she reached over, taking Dean’s hand.

“Yes. There’s twice as much blood running through my body right now. It’s easy to get lightheaded and woozy. But a nap wouldn’t be the worst thing, if you want to know the truth.”

Dean smiled as he gently squeezed her hand.

“Do you want something to eat?”   
“Are you cooking? Because, please don’t.”

Dean laughed.

“Relax. I’m going to call Lacie back, because she won’t stop blowing up the damn phone, and get her to bring you something. Any specific thing you want?”

Melinda looked forward, bringing both hands up on her belly.

“Ooh, pickles. But those kosher/deli kind, like you get at McAlister’s. Tell that to Lace. She’ll understand.”   
“Okay. Pickles. Anything else?”

Melinda let out a sigh.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy. Not a word.”

Dean closed his mouth, biting back the retort he’d had at the ready, smiling. He nodded to her, and Melinda took in a breath.

“Peanut butter. Crunchy peanut butter. Ooh, and sourdough bread. And barbeque potato chips.”

Dean swallowed, and Melinda spoke up one more time.

“And a green banana. It _has_ to be green.”   
“You’re disgusting.”

Melinda just laughed, laying a hand against her belly as he stood up, shaking his head.

“Hey, Dean?”

He glanced back at her from the doorway that led to the kitchen. She pulled the blanket closer around her, giving him a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

He smiled back.

“No problem. Get some rest.”

She closed her eyes as he walked into the kitchen, and he grabbed onto the counter, letting out a long, shaky breath. He lifted a shaky hand and pushed it through his hair, then stood up, grabbing a bottle of water from Melinda’s fridge. He pulled his phone from his pocket, texting Lacie the list of foods Melinda had requested. He got a confirmation text from Lacie, then went to the doorway, leaning against it as he watched Melinda as she slept.

It had been a long time since he’d watched her sleep. He’d done it the first time they’d made love, many times before the drugs had taken hold of him, and he hated that he couldn’t remember the last time. Of course, at the time, he hadn’t realized that it would be the last time. He closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself. Stop going back there. Now. Stay in the now.

He heard the whimper, stepping forward before he knew what he was doing. He sat on the edge of the couch, gently pushing the hair back from her forehead.

“Mel? Honey, it’s okay.”

Her blue eyes blinked open, looking up at him before sitting up.

“Chair.”   
“What?”   
“I need to sit in the chair. I can’t breathe when I lay flat.”

Dean nodded, helping her to her feet, going still as she rested her head against his chest for a moment. He swallowed, glancing down at her, wrapping both of his arms around her, gently rubbing her back.

“You okay?”

She nodded.

“Just a little dizzy.”

Dean nodded, rubbing gently on her arm. After a moment, Melinda nodded, and Dean helped her to the chair. She held her head in her hand for a minute, as Dean grabbed her blanket and draped it over her. She looked up at him, and he grabbed another one, wrapping it around her, and she relaxed back against the chair. He leaned over her.

“Better?”

She nodded, and Dean gave her a smile.

“Go back to sleep, baby. Everything’s fine.”

She nodded, closing her eyes as he stepped back, sinking onto the couch as Melinda’s breathing evened out. He dragged his hands over his face, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he leaned back against the cushions, watching Melinda as she slept.


	17. Lonely People

_Ten Years Ago_

“You’re sure—“   
“I swear to God, you ask me one more time…”

Dean looked over his shoulder, seeing Melinda standing in the middle of the room, wearing a pair of cutoff jeans and a t-shirt that she and Lacie had tye-dyed with Lacie’s nephew. She was biting her lip, glancing around the room. He let out a sigh, setting down the boxes he’d carried up the stairs.

“Look, I know it’s not much—“   
“Oh, no. Dean, no. It’s perfect.”

Melinda clasped her hands together as she looked around the room.

“I just don’t want to intrude.”

Dean wiped his hands on his jeans as he stepped over to her. He laid his hands on her shoulders, and she looked up at him.

“Uncle Bobby’s been by himself ever since Aunt Karen died. He offered you staying here before I even asked him.”

Melinda nodded, letting out a sigh as she leaned forward, resting her forehead on Dean’s chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her back. She leaned back, putting her chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes. Dean smiled at her.

“This will be good. Bobby won’t be alone, and you …”   
“Neither will I.”

Dean leaned forward, cupping Melinda’s face in his hands as he kissed her lips. She let her hands drift up, resting on his biceps as she kissed him back. After a minute, he leaned back to catch his breath and she moved to rest her head against his shoulder. He pulled her in closer, wrapping her in his arms, resting his head on hers. Melinda’s voice was quiet when she spoke again, words whispered against Dean’s neck.

“It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?”

Dean closed his eyes, holding her tighter, letting out a breath.

“Yeah, baby. It is. Maybe not for a while, but it will be.”   
“Someday.”   
“Yeah, someday.”

Dean swallowed, trying not to feel the maelstrom of emotions whirling through his mind right then. How would things ever be okay? Melinda was an orphan. Her father just died, they’d just put him in the ground, and her brother, the only close family member she had, just abandoned her. Dean wanted to wrap her up, tuck her away where no one could touch her, and make sure he spent the rest of his life ensuring that she was okay. But he couldn’t do that. He felt so damn helpless, like he couldn’t do anything. Melinda moved her head then, and Dean looked down to see her looking up at him.

“Will you kiss me again?”

Dean smiled. Now that, he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry these last couple of chapters have been so short. But since they were, I decided to post them all at the same time! That makes up for it, right? Thank you so much for the reviews so far. Please, keep them coming!!


	18. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Dean had taken to walking around the cabin a few times to get some light exercise. Sometimes, if he was feeling adventurous, he’d walk to the little lake near the cabin, watch the birds touch down on the frozen surface. Today, he’d been feeling adventurous, and it took him longer than usual to make it back to the cabin. When he stepped inside the back door, he went still. There were boxes piled up in the living room, and he had the sickest feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Mel? Mel! Melinda!”

She rounded the corner, eyes wide, one hand on her belly.

“What?”

Dean grabbed onto the doorframe, hanging his head as he stood there.

“The … Boxes… You-you weren’t… Shit.”

Melinda let out a quiet sigh, laying the dishrag she was carrying to the side. She made her way over to Dean, maneuvering him over to the couch, getting him to sit. He hung his head, and Melinda sat on the coffee table in front of him, one hand gently rubbing over his shoulder and down his arm. After a moment, she reached over and laid a finger under his chin, gently pushing upwards, until he raised his eyes to hers.

“I’m going to be straight with you for just a minute, then I don’t want to talk about it again. Okay? I know we need to talk, but I just can’t. Not yet.”

Dean nodded, and Melinda took in a deep breath.

“It killed me, to leave the way I did. I cried the entire day, from the time I left the apartment until I cried myself to sleep here in this cabin with Lacie. I hated myself for leaving. I hated the way I did it. I hated that I didn’t tell you, and I hated the way you found out.”

She glanced down as she said the next sentence, so softly it was just above a whisper.

“And when Sam called me with the news that you’d overdosed again…”

She shook her head.

“I didn’t want to do it, but I knew it had to be done. But Dean, if I could go back and do it differently…”

She rubbed a hand over her belly.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do.”

Dean nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Melinda reached over, taking his hands in hers.

“I can promise you this. I won’t do it again. I will not leave like that, without a word. If I’m going somewhere, you’ll know.”

Dean nodded, looking down at their hands, then back up to Melinda’s eyes.

“What are the boxes for then?”

Melinda smiled.

“It’s December 23, Dean. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, and we don’t have a single decoration up.”

He sat back, closing his eyes as a smile crossed his face.

“Christmas decorations.”

Melinda nodded.

“Benny helped me get the boxes this morning, and he should be coming back with a tree any minute now.”   
“A real tree?”

Melinda grinned as she nodded.

“I can’t wait. The only time I’ve had a real tree was with Bobby. The poor man was so out of his comfort zone when he set it up and I walked in, just staring at it, then bursting into tears the way I did. He just hugged me, patted me on the back, said he’d have to see about finding decorations for it. I think he just needed any old excuse to escape.”

Dean laughed with her, letting out a quiet cough. Melinda reached over, gently rubbing his back. Melinda gave him a smile as she stood up, letting out a breath, holding a hand over her belly. She walked over to a box, opening it up. Dean’s breath caught in his throat at the smile that lit up her face as she reached in and pulled out a wreath that was nearly as big as she was. Dean cleared his throat, nodding at her.

“Where did all this stuff come from?”

Melinda set the wreath aside, after checking to ensure there was a hanger on the back of it. She continued to open boxes as she spoke.

“Well, Lacie. Benny, some. Sam sent some stuff, and Bobby sent most of the stuff from his place.”

Melinda leaned over a box as she looked at Dean with a sad smile on her face.

“He said he only put it up for me.”

She shook her head, blinking back tears. Dean went to stand up, but she waved him back down with a watery laugh.

“Stupid hormones. I’m fine.”

She sniffled again, holding a hand on her nose.

“I just miss him. He came and helped me move in, dropped by a few months ago, and said he’d come back when the baby comes. Sam’s coming, too.”

Dean nodded, watching her as she smiled at the different items she pulled from the boxes. She shook her head, a soft smile on her face.

“You’d think this was Sam’s baby, the way he’s acting.”

Dean opened his mouth, shutting it again just as quickly. It wasn’t any of his business. Even though it was eating at him, even though he was dying to know whose baby she was having, he knew he didn’t have any right to ask her. Melinda let out a laugh, looking over at Dean.

“Come here.”   
“What?”   
“Come here, hurry!”

Dean rushed over to her, and she reached for his hand. She placed his palm against her belly, and Dean’s eyes widened. Melinda laughed again.

“I think he or she is excited for Christmas.”   
“I think so. Wow, that’s awesome.”

Melinda watched him as he stared at her belly, a wide smile on his face. He brought his other hand up, letting out an almost shocked laugh when a kick landed against his palm. He lifted his head, smiling at Melinda, looking up at her. Tears filled her eyes again, and she shook her head. She let out a watery laugh as she smiled.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your eyes that clear.”

Dean swallowed, breaking the connection to look back down at her belly.

“I know. And I … I’m sorry for that. Mel—”

She shook her head, laying her hand on his arm. She looked towards the door, then back to him, her smile too wide, eyes too bright.

“Let’s put some Christmas decorations up, shall we?”

Dean let out a sigh as she stepped away from him, heading for a new box as he took hold of the wreath she’d been admiring.

* * *

 

“Little to the left. ... Sorry, _my_ left.”   
“Your left _is_ my left, darlin’.”   
“Oh. Then a little to the right.”

Benny grunted as he turned the tree—again—stepping back and brushing the pine needles off his hands and the front of his shirt. He glanced around the tree, to the couch where Melinda sat, feet propped up in front of her, fingers linked together over her belly. Benny held out a hand, and she met his eyes, smiling widely.

“Perfect.”

Benny let out a satisfied grunt, walking over and plopping down on the couch beside her. Melinda reached over, gently scratching Benny’s head.

“Such a good job.”   
“I’m not a dog, Mel. Jesus.”

Melinda laughed, and Benny leaned over, laying a hand on her belly.

“And how’s our little …”

Benny glanced up at Melinda, who smiled.

“Cantaloupe, this week.”   
“Aw, I love cantaloupes!”

Melinda let out a laugh.

“Every week it’s something different, and every week you say it’s something you love.”   
“Well, maybe it’s not the fruit then, you ever think about that?”

Melinda cradled her belly in her hands, and Benny leaned over to press a kiss to the side of her head. He stood up, stretching out his arms, then rolling his neck before clapping his hands together.

“All right. Where are those lights?”   
“Dean was trying to untangle them on the porch, I thought.”

Benny turned back, glancing out to the porch. He walked over and opened the door, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, brother. You got those lights ready?”   
“Yeah, just checked them and they’re good to go.”

Benny slapped Dean on the back, then picked up the lights and carried them inside. Dean stayed on the porch, turning his back to the cabin, staring out into the waning sunlight. He closed his eyes as a shiver ran through his body. He didn’t feel cold, though.

He didn’t feel much of anything.

He’d watched them, Melinda sitting on the couch, Benny doing whatever he could to make her happy. He’d seen her smile, the way it seemed to light up the room. He’d seen Benny walk over, sit too close beside her, lay his hands on her belly. He’d seen them smile at each other, the way Melinda’s eyes had drifted shut as Benny kissed her head.

He should have known she’d have someone. Someone as beautiful and pure as Melinda deserved someone who knew that, someone who’d treat her right. Not someone who bounced from this drug to that one, walking out of rehab multiple times, overdosing again and again. She needed someone who’d stay with her, not push her away. She deserved someone who would chase after her.

Not someone who’d deliberately go too far when he realized she was gone.

Dean rubbed at his arms, at the scars that still lingered, even after eight months of being clean. He stuck his hands in his pockets, lifting his head and closing his eyes. The mountain air had done wonders for him, once the pneumonia had cleared up. It was crisp and clean air, so perfect it almost hurt to breathe it in.

“Dean?”

He glanced back, seeing Melinda standing in the doorway, pulling her big sweater tighter around her. He smiled, because it was an involuntary action around her. She smiled back at him.

“Get in here, you big goof. It’s freezing out here and if I hear Benny curse at this tree one more time, I’m going to push him into the fire.”   
_“That’s something great to be teaching your unborn child! Oh, you son of a bitch.”_   
“See? Please get in here and help him.”   
_“ You could help!”_  
“I can barely fit in the same room as the tree!”

Benny and Dean both coughed to cover up their laughter. Melinda narrowed her eyes at Dean, then reached out a hand.

“Come on.”

He reached over and took hers, and she shivered at his touch.

“Good Lord. Get over by the fire and I’ll grab you a cup of cocoa.”

As Melinda walked into the kitchen, Dean walked over to the fire, smiling as he watched Benny let his head fall back as his fingers tightened on the string of lights.

“Easy, man.”   
“I’m about two seconds from throwing this shit into the yard.”   
_“Do it and you’ll be spending Christmas out there!”_

Benny closed his eyes as Dean let out a laugh. Melinda made her way back into the room, shooting Benny a look as she handed the hot chocolate to Dean. He wrapped his hands around the mug, shivering as the warmth from the mug warmed his hands. Melinda pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and motioned towards the tree.

“If you’d just—“   
“No. No, ma’am. You sit.”

Benny pointed to the couch and Melinda blew out her breath as she plopped down, one hand rising to rub circles on her belly. Dean sipped his cocoa, glancing from Benny to Melinda. She turned her blue eyes to him, a look on her face akin to Sam’s puppy eyes slipping into place. Dean let out a sigh.

“Don’t give me that look.”   
“Look away! Quick, look away.”

Dean sighed again as he looked to Benny, then shook his head.

“No, it … It’s too late.”

Dean turned the mug up, draining it. He set it on the mantle, then walked over to Benny, taking a strand of lights from him.

“Let’s see what we can do here.”

* * *

 

“Mel. Hey, sweetheart.”

She let out a quiet sound, shifting on the couch.

“Mel, wake up.”

She blinked three times, very slowly, and Dean just smiled at her. She reached over, and he took her hand.

“It’s okay. You fell asleep.”   
“No kidding. Why is it so dark?”   
“Well, that’s what happens at night.”

Dean laughed when she swatted him on the arm.

“I’m sorry. We just wanted to make it special for you.”   
“Make what special?”   
“The magic of Christmas.”

Melinda glanced back as she heard Benny’s voice, then gasped as a soft light filled the room. Lights were strung from the top to the bottom of the tree, twinkling softly in the darkness. Her mouth hung open, and tears filled her eyes. She closed her lips, trying—and failing—to keep her tears at bay. Dean went on instinct, wrapping his arms around her from behind, and she leaned into him.

“I love it so much.”

Dean closed his eyes, breathing in the soft, clean scent of her shampoo. Melinda turned in his arms, hugging him tightly. Dean hugged her back, and when she moved back, he gently ran a piece of her hair through his hand. She stepped around the table, walking into a smiling Benny’s embrace. He kissed the side of her head again, laying his palm against her belly, whispering something that made her laugh. Melinda pushed his arm, then walked back over to Dean.

“Merry Christmas, Winchester.”   
“Merry Christmas, Mel.”

She sat down in the chair, and Dean watched as Benny walked to the front door, putting his coat on. Dean nodded to her and cleared his throat.

“You sleeping down here again?”

Melinda nodded.

“I get so uncomfortable lying flat. And baby hates it, too. Sitting up pleases everyone. Plus, check out the scenery tonight.”

Dean smiled at her, nodding his head. He walked over and tossed another log onto the fire, and Melinda smiled. He walked back to the couch, sitting down and unlacing his boots, slipping them off his feet.

“Okay. Everyone all settled in?”

Melinda smiled, motioning with her head. Benny smiled at her, reaching for and unfolding the blanket, draping it over her. He pulled the comforter out of its resting spot, unfolding it and draping it over her.

“Good now?”

Melinda nodded, snuggling down in her covers. Benny shook his head.

“What would you do without me?”   
“Probably freeze.”

Benny shook his head as he turned around to face Dean.

“Need me to tuck you in, too?”

Dean smiled at Melinda’s laughter.

“Nah, man. I think I can handle it.”

Benny held up his hands.

“Your loss.”

He glanced back at Melinda, giving her a wink as he wound his scarf around his neck.

“Sweet dreams to all. See you tomorrow.”

Melinda nodded, and Benny left, locking the door behind him. Melinda relaxed into her chair, staring at the tree. Dean stood up, pulling his sweater over his head, leaving him in just a plain white t-shirt. He glanced back at Melinda.

“You need anything while I’m up?”

She shook her head, and he walked to the bathroom, slipping into the sweatpants Benny had picked up for him when he first stumbled upon Melinda’s place. He brushed his teeth and walked back into the living room, seeing Melinda with her head propped on one fist, just staring at the tree. Dean smiled, shaking his head.

“It’s late.”   
“I know. But it’s Christmas Eve now.”

Dean nodded as he propped his pillow up, pulling his blankets out.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a room for you.”   
“What?”

Melinda sighed.

“A bed. I hate that you don’t have a bed here.”

Dean shook his head, a smile on his face.

“This couch is perfect.”   
“You could go sleep in my bed, if you want. I’m certainly not using it.”   
“Mel. I’m fine. I promise.”

She nodded, letting out a sigh. Dean laid down on the couch, fixing the lighter blanket over his legs. He pulled out the electric blanket and fixed it around himself, before pulling the comforter up under his chin. He glanced over at the chair, seeing Melinda looking back at him.

“Are you warm enough?”

She nodded.

“Are you?”

He nodded, and she smiled.

“Okay. Sweet dreams, Dean.”   
“Sweet dreams, Mel.”

And this time, thanks to the magic of Christmas, their dreams were sweet.


	19. All I Want For Christmas...

They had decided, on this first Christmas together, that they should have some traditions. Melinda spent most of the day in the kitchen, making cookies and other delicious treats. Lacie came over around lunchtime, helping Melinda in the kitchen.

Dean spent most of the day in the woods, walking around, finding a spot where he miraculously had signal on his phone. He chalked it up to the magic of Christmas, calling a familiar number and talking for a long time. He thought of calling Bobby, or Sam, but slid his phone back in his pocket instead. They wouldn’t want to talk to him, he was fairly sure.

He made his way back to the house, stepping in from the back porch, shivering as the warmth of the house hit his chilled body. He took his coat off, heading for the fireplace to warm his hands.

“Hey, there you are. Come here.”

Dean walked into the kitchen, and Melinda shot him a smile from her place at the stove. Lacie kept her back to him as she continued to stir. Melinda held out a spoon, and he leaned forward, taking a taste of what she’d given him. She raised her eyebrows, and he nodded.

“That’s delicious.”

Melinda gave a quiet shout, smiling widely when she turned back to the stove. Dean glanced at Lacie, then walked into the living room. Melinda let out a sigh, speaking to the pot in front of her.

“It’s Christmas.”   
“Jesus freakin’ Christ, I know it’s Christmas.”   
“Well, couldn’t you cut him some slack?”

Lacie set her spoon down, turning to face Melinda.

“Seriously?”

Melinda let out a sigh.

“It’s two days, Lace.”   
“Do you understand what you’re asking?”   
“Yes!”

Melinda shook her head.

“Listen. I get it. You hate him. Whatever. No offense, but you weren’t there. You didn’t see how bad it got.”   
“No, but I got the full report from you.”   
“Exactly. From _me_. _I_ was there. _I_ lived it, and _I_ can be civil around him.”

Lacie gave a long sigh.

“So what? If you can do it, I can, too?”

Melinda shrugged.

“I’m just hoping that maybe your heart can grow three sizes today.”   
“You just called me a Grinch!”

Melinda shrugged again, turning back to her pot. Lacie blew out her breath as she walked out of the kitchen. She found Dean on the couch, staring at the presents under the tree. He looked up as she walked into his line of sight, and she let out a breath.

“I hate you.”   
“Yeah, I got that.”   
“For what you did to Melinda, I think you ought to be strung up by your balls.”

Dean nodded.

“Yeah, you’ve made that clear. Why are you telling me now?”

Lacie let out a sigh, pushing a hand through her hair.

“It’s Christmas. And she’s like a little kid.”

Dean nodded again, looking down at his hands. Lacie sighed again.

“I’m offering a truce.”

Dean glanced up at her, and she shrugged.

“For today and tomorrow. Then I can go back to hating you.”

Dean snorted and smiled.

“Fair enough.”

He held out a hand, and she rolled her eyes, letting out another sigh as she put her hand in his, shaking once before letting go. She walked back into the kitchen and Dean shook his head, looking up at the tree.

“It’s a Christmas miracle.”   
_“I heard that!”_

* * *

 

As the Peanuts gang began to sing _Hark! The Herald Angels Sing_ , Melinda had a soft smile on her face.

“That’s always been my favorite Christmas movie.”   
“Seriously?”

Melinda nodded down at Charlie, who reached for another cookie, shaking her fiery red hair back.

“Mine was always _A Christmas Story_.”

Dean smiled.

“ _Home Alone 2_.”

Benny shook his head.

“ _It’s A Wonderful Life_.”

He laughed when Lacie hit him with a piece of popcorn. He threw a piece back at her, hitting her right on the nose. Lacie frowned while everyone laughed, then looked to Melinda.

“Can we do presents now?”   
“I thought we were waiting until tomorrow morning.”   
“Just, like, one now.”

Melinda sighed, rubbing a hand on her belly.

“You’re worse than a kid.”   
“They’re right there, just staring at me, begging to be opened!”

Everyone laughed again, and Melinda sighed.

“Fine. One.”

Lacie cheered, reaching under the tree.

“No, go for the solid red ones.”

Lacie leaned back, and Melinda shrugged a shoulder, winking at her. Lacie did as she asked, passing around the presents. They tore into them, while Melinda sat back, a satisfied smile on her face. Charlie opened hers first, giving a gasp.

“Shut up. Is this a Yoda hat?!”

She pulled it from the box, plopping it on her head, letting out a squeal.

“Mel! You made this?”

Melinda nodded, and Charlie scrambled over to the couch, giving Melinda a noisy kiss on the cheek.

“This is badass.”

Melinda laughed, looking over to see Lacie with the sky blue blanket around her shoulders. Lacie smiled widely.

“I love it.”   
“Do you really?”

Lacie nodded. Benny cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. He held his hands out, lowering his chin to his chest, showing off the navy blue beanie on his head. Lacie and Charlie oohed and ahhed, and Benny flipped them both off, making them collapse in giggles. Lacie looked up, seeing Dean gently touching the dark green scarf in the thin box on his lap. Melinda leaned closer to him, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Do you like it?”

Dean looked at her, giving her a gentle smile.

“Yes, it’s … I love it. I just …”   
“What?”

Dean sighed, looking up at her.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

Melinda smiled at him.

“You don’t give Christmas presents because you want something in return.”   
“You don’t? Whoops.”

Melinda laughed at Charlie, then turned back to Dean.

“You don’t need to get me anything. I did this because I wanted to. And you needed a scarf.”   
“Well, thank you. I love it.”

Melinda smiled, turning forward and seeing the box Lacie was holding out to her. Melinda narrowed her eyes, and Lacie nodded, pushing the forwards. Melinda took it, setting it on Charlie’s lap, since her own was pretty much non-existent.

“Oh my gosh, you didn’t!”

Melinda pushed the wrapping paper down, to reveal the Kitchenaid mixer she’d been wanting for years. Lacie smiled, still wrapped up in her blanket.

“Charlie and I went in together. It’s even helpful for making baby food!”

Melinda let out a laugh, leaning to wrap an arm around Charlie.

“I love it. Thank you!”

After changing into their pajamas and debating over sleeping arrangements, they all started to yawn during the viewing of _Dr. Seuss’ How The Grinch Stole Christmas-_ the animated version-which was Lacie’s choice. Melinda glanced around to see Charlie on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest, mouthing the words. She looked over to see Benny on one of the air mattresses they’d brought over. Lacie was sitting beside him, very close to him, so close her blanket was draped over his legs, too. She was leaning over, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Hey.”

Melinda glanced over to see Dean motion towards the kitchen. She nodded, and he helped her up. He slid his jacket over his shoulders, helping her into her coat and boots, before they stepped onto the porch. Melinda shivered, pulling her jacket tighter, before she stepped up, wrapping the scarf around Dean’s neck.

“Looks great.”   
“Thanks.”

He spread a few towels onto the ledge, and they sat down. Melinda looked up at the sky, smiling at the twinkling stars. Dean stared up for a while with her, then let out a sigh.

“I lied to you.”

Melinda smiled, bringing her face down, looking at him.

“About what?”

Dean smiled softly.

“That I didn’t have you anything.”

Melinda’s smile grew.

“You got me a present?”

Dean laughed quietly.

“It’s not something you wanted, or would ever put on your list, I don’t think.”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket.

“But I still—I want you to have it.”

He reached and took her hand, turning it palm up and placing what she assumed was a poker chip in her hand. She lifted it up, using the light from the kitchen to take in the sight of a copper-colored coin with a seven etched into it. She lifted her eyes to Dean’s, and caught sight of his soft smile.

“I, uh, skipped out before I could get my eighth one. But this one is important, too.”   
“This is your …”   
“My sobriety. Seven months. Since the day after you walked out.”

Melinda lifted a hand to her lips, covering her mouth as she tried to fight back her tears. Dean shook his head.

“I didn’t want to make you cry. But I wanted you to have this. I want you to have them all, actually. I know my word doesn’t mean much to you, and I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve changed, and maybe this—“   
“Dean.”

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I can tell you’ve changed. You’re not the same drugged-out junkie you used to be. I can see that you’re different. This is …”

She shook her head again, looking down at the chip.

“This is amazing. I’m so proud of you for this.”

She leaned over, and he closed his eyes as he held her, as she cried into his shoulder. After a few minutes, she leaned back, lifting the chip in her fist.

“I love it. It’s the best thing you could have given me.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s a start.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, looking up at the sky instead. Melinda mimicked him, letting out a quiet gasp.

“It’s snowing!”   
“It snows all the damn time here.”

Melinda shook her head.

“No, this is a special Christmas snow.”   
“Does it make all your dreams come true?”

Melinda met his eyes, giving him a smile.

“Maybe.”

He smiled back, standing up and brushing snow from his jacket.

“Well, let’s get you in before it gets too deep.”

He helped her to her feet, opened the door and let her go in first. They stopped at Charlie’s shushing, both looking up where she was pointing. Melinda closed her eyes, shaking her head.

“Mistletoe.”   
“I knew I’d catch someone!”

She narrowed her eyes at Charlie, who just danced in place. Melinda shook her head again, glancing back at Dean. He smiled at her, going completely still when Melinda reached up, laying a hand on his cheek and pushing his face towards hers, laying her lips against his cheek, letting them linger there for a moment before pulling away. They walked into the now-darkened living room, as Charlie slid into a sleeping bag on the smaller air mattress. Melinda shook her head.

“I thought Benny was sleeping on that one, and you and Lacie were sharing the other one.”   
“Didn’t quite end up that way.”

Melinda looked over where Charlie was motioning and her mouth fell open. Benny and Lacie were curled up together on the bigger air mattress, Benny spooned up behind her, holding her close to him. They had a comforter covering them, and Melinda could see a piece of the blanket she’d made for Lacie sticking out from under the comforter. Melinda glanced back, and Dean just shook his head. He stepped around the couch, helping Melinda over to the chair, which had been moved out of the way, closer to the couch. He helped her into it, draping the blankets over her, helping her situate pillows, then draping the big comforter over her. He knelt down where they could be face-to-face.

“You warm enough?”

She smiled and nodded. He smiled, gently pushing a piece of her hair back.

“Good night. Sweet dreams, Mel.”   
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

He smiled as he climbed into his bed, rolling his eyes at Benny’s soft snores. And when Melinda reached for him in her sleep, he took her hand, holding it as her breathing evened out again, not letting go until he climbed out of bed to fix Christmas morning coffee.


	20. Good Intentions...

_Four Years Ago_

“Who sets up an intervention on Christmas fucking morning?”

Melinda closed her eyes, pushing her hands through her hair. Bobby let out a sigh next to her, and across from them, Sam shook his head.

“We didn’t have any other choice.”  
“Oh, really? That’s the best you can come up with?”  
“Dean.”

Dean let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Well this … This is just great. Let’s chat, shall we?”

He took a seat on the coffee table.

“Who wants to go first, tell me how I’ve ruined their life? Mel? Baby, this seems like the obvious moment for you to jump in. Sammy? We all know it’s true. What about you, old man? You want to go first?”

Bobby closed his eyes. When no one spoke up, Dean nodded his head.

“Okay, then. Why don’t I talk? Maybe … Maybe about how my addiction began. Isn’t that how this is supposed to go?”

He tapped a finger against his chin.

“I guess it started back in high school, when I could go through a case of beer by myself and feel great. No one seemed to notice, or care, so what harm did it do? I guess from then on, I just kept chasing that high, trying to find something that made me feel good.”  
“And you found it where? In the cocaine?”

Dean looked over to Melinda, who shook her head.

“But that can’t be right, since you dropped it soon after for the heroin. What about the oxy? Did it help? Obviously not, since you went right back to the heroin. Let’s not forget that old standby of the beer, though. And the various brands of hard liquor. Jack, Jim, Jose—“  
“Don’t you sit there and judge me.”

Sam lifted his head then, letting out a sigh as he leaned forward.

“I know it’s been hard on you—“  
“Hard? It’s been—Sam.”

Bobby spoke quietly.

“The boy’s got a point. The drugs started right after your daddy died.”

The color ran out of Dean’s face, and his eyes turned to sharp pieces of emerald steel.

“Don’t bring him into this.”  
“He’s already in this, Dean. He’s the cause of this.”

Dean shook his head at Melinda.

“No, he—he’s not. He’s dead.”  
“And you couldn’t cope. It’s understandable, Dean. But the drugs are not—“  
“You can’t sit there and tell me how I’m supposed to cope!”

Dean got to his feet, shaking his head at Sam.

“Bobby drinks like a fish. And why? Because his wife died?”  
“This isn’t about Bobby, Dean. This is about you.”  
“So it’s okay for him, but not for me?”  
“He’s hasn’t nearly killed himself!”

Dean looked to Melinda as she stood up, pushing a hand through her hair.

“Christ, Dean. Do you have any idea what it was like to walk into the apartment and hear Sam screaming your name? To see him standing in the shower with you, fully clothed, shoving your face into the cold water?”

She shook her head.

“You promised it would stop.”  
“Mel—“  
“No. That was two years ago, Dean.”

He cracks his neck, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

“You guys don’t understand. It’s not like it used to be.”  
“No kidding. The Dean we used to know is long gone. You can’t hold down a job. You dropped out of school. You shot up what little money your father left you.”  
“Thanks for bringing up all my shit, Bobby. Appreciate it.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes. Melinda sat beside him, gently patting his hand.

“We just want you to get some help, Dean. You and I tried to kick this stuff before and—“  
“Who says I want to stop? I’m fine. You three are the ones with the problem.”  
“You’re not fine. Not by a long shot.”

Dean sighed as he looked at Sam. Sam shook his head.

“It’s California, Dean. Even Christmastime isn’t cold enough to wear that jacket.”

Dean swallowed, pulling his father’s leather jacket closer around him. Sam let out a long, tired-sounding sigh.

“Why won’t you take it off around us?”  
“Because I’m cold.”  
“Bullshit.”

Dean closed his eyes at Bobby’s remark, refusing to look at him. Sam nodded towards his brother.

“Take it off, Dean.”

Dean clenched his jaw, then smiled a humorless smile.

“You want to see so bad, Sammy?”

He stood up, ridding the jacket like it had somehow wronged him. He let out a laugh, standing before them in a plain white t-shirt, clenching his fists and holding his arms out from his sides.

“Take a good look! Maybe even take a picture. Would you like that, Sammy? Huh?”

Sam stared at his brother, while Bobby closed his eyes, cursing quietly under his breath. Melinda leaned over and put her head in her hands, unable to hold back her tears. Dean lifted an arm to scratch at his neck, moving it from side to side again. Sam stared at the angry red marks on his brother’s arms, finally understanding what the phrase “track marks” meant.

“Why, Dean? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”  
“Because it feels good. Next question.”

Bobby shook his head.

“You need to be in a rehab, son.”  
“You are not my father.”  
“Dean!”

He looked to Melinda, faltering just a bit at the tears in her eyes, the ones still slipping down her cheeks. He shook his head.

“Isn’t the first step to healing or whatever that bullshit is—isn’t the first step to want help?”  
“No, it’s admitting you have a problem.”  
“Oh. Well, you’re the ones who have a problem. Not me.”

Sam blew out his breath, then looked over to Bobby. Bobby gave him a nod, before they both looked to Melinda. She hung her head for a moment, sniffling, then nodded before she lifted her head again.

“You’re refusing to get help.”

Dean let out a laugh at her statement.

“I don’t need any help!”  
“So you’re not going to stop doing the drugs?”

Dean gave her a smile, rubbing his left hand over his right arm.

“I see no need to.”

Melinda nodded slowly, looking to the ground. Bobby cleared his throat.

“If you’re not going to stop, then any time you want to shoot up, you do it with one of us.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Do I need to say it in Spanish?”

Sam cleared his throat.

“What Bobby means is, whenever you’re ready to … do whatever it is you do, you have to come find one of us. Mel and I will be easy to find, since we live here.”  
“I'm willing to relocate here for awhile. That way, if Sam and Mel aren't here, if they’re in class or working, you can call me. I’ll come to you.”

Dean stared at them, shaking his head. He reached up, absently scratching his neck again.

“No, I—no.”  
“That’s your only option, Dean. You won’t go get help, so we’re going to help you and keep you as safe as we can.”

Dean shook his head, leg jiggling up and down without his knowledge.

“You want to watch me shoot up?”  
“No, but you’ve left us no choice.”

Dean stared at his brother for a few seconds. Melinda got to her feet, holding out a hand.

"Dean, just wait a minute."

Dean grabbed his leather jacket, stalking to the door, slamming the door behind him. Melinda sank back down onto the couch, putting her head in her hands. Bobby sighed, then laid a hand on her back, gently rubbing up and down. Sam stood up from his chair, walking over to the couch and sitting beside them. Melinda lifted her head, shaking it as she held her hands over her mouth.

"I knew it. I knew he would run."  
"It's all right. We did what we could."  
"'What we could'? No, Bobby."

She stood up, blowing out her breath, crossing her arms over her chest as she walked to the window.

"We pushed him away. We made him run, and now we're going to find him in some ditch or some-"

Sam stood up, taking Melinda in his arms. She put her face in his chest, clinging tightly to him. Sam took in a breath, letting it out slowly.

"He'll be all right, Mel."  
"What if he's not? If something happens to him-"  
"Then it'll be his fault."

Melinda pulled back from Sam, looking wide eyes to Bobby.

"You're serious?"

Bobby sighed.

"Stop trying to defend him. Stop trying to let him off easy and look at this from an outsider's point of view."

Melinda closed her eyes, pushing a hand through her hair.

"He's sick, Bobby.”  
“Damn it, I know he is!”

Bobby blew out his breath, putting his hands on his hips as he paced.

“He is sick. He’s addicted to this shit, and he can’t see how it’s killing him.”

Bobby stopped, taking off his cap and pushing a hand through his hair. Melinda closed her eyes, and Sam put an arm around her. Sam took in a breath, letting it out slowly.

“He’ll come home soon.”

* * *

 

But he didn’t.

And after three-o-clock in the morning, two days later, Sam’s phone began to ring loudly. Jolted out of sleep, Sam blinked wide eyes until he grabbed his phone, opening it and making the loud screech of the ring quiet down. Melinda had run out of her bedroom, robe thrown on carelessly, and was sitting on the edge of the sofa bed. Sam swallowed, clearing his throat.

“Hel—Hello?”

He heard a quiet chuckle on the other end of the line.

_“Hey, Sammy.”_  
“Dean?”

Sam turned to Melinda, who leaned over and flicked on the lamp. Sam shook his head.

“Where the hell are you?”  
 _“Well, that’s … That’s the thing.”_

Sam closed his eyes, pushing a hand through his hair.

“You’re high.”  
 _“I’m in a little bit of trouble.”_  
“Fuck.”

Sam crawled off the bed, shivering at the air circling through the room. He caught the blanket Melinda tossed him and draped it over his bare torso.

“Dean, where are you?”

He heard Dean talking to someone a few seconds before his rough voice came back over the line.

_“Bay—Bayview Station.”_

Sam went still.

“You’re where?”

Sam’s voice was low, and he stood frozen in the middle of the floor. Dean repeated what he’d just said, and Sam sank onto the arm of the chair, dropping his head to his hand.

“Fuck, Dean.”  
“ _It was just a mis … misunderstanding._ ”  
“The hell it was!”

Melinda’s soft hand on his knee made Sam sigh. He looked up at her, shaking his head. He covered the receiver with his hand, then spoke to Melinda.

“He got arrested.”

Melinda sank down to the floor, and Sam shook his head.

“Dean, let me talk to an officer.”  
 _“I don’t think you want—“_  
“Damn it, Dean, now!”

A few seconds later, an amused voice came onto the line.

_“This is Officer Lang.”_  
“Yes, this is Sam Winchester.”  
 _“So you’re the brother?”_

Sam sighed.

“Yes. Listen, I am so sorry. Can you tell me what his charges are?”  
 _“I’m sorry, I can’t discuss those over the phone. You’ll have to come down here.”_

Sam pushed a hand through his hair.

“Officer, we live in Palo Alto.”

Sam just knew the officer was nodding.

_“I don’t think it’ll hurt your brother to make himself comfortable in a cell for a while longer. Might do him some good, actually.”_  
“Thank you, Officer.”

Sam hung up the phone and blew out his breath. He walked to the closet in his room. He’d been sleeping on the couch since Bobby was there, and after the disaster of an intervention, then two days searching for Dean, Bobby had left, going back home. Sam was too tired to bother with changing the sheets, so he’d just crashed on the couch again. Melinda followed him into the room, and Sam sighed as he dug in his closet.

“Dean’s in jail.”  
“I gathered as much.”  
“In San Francisco.”

Melinda closed her eyes, and Sam turned from the closet, holding a button-down shirt in his hands.

“I can take care of him.”  
“Sam—“  
“I know how you feel about San Fran. It’s fine. Let me handle this.”

Melinda’s eyes filled with tears.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

Sam nodded.

“None of us should. I’m so …”

Sam let out a laugh, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“I’m so fucking mad at him.”

Melinda sighed, tucking her robe tighter around her as she walked over to the bed, sitting down beside Sam.

“I know. I am, too. And I try not to be, I try to look at it like Bobby said, but I just …”

She shook her head, and Sam looped an arm around her.

“I know.”  
“He’s got to stop, Sam.”  
“I know.”

Sam let out a long breath.

“I’m going to take a shower, then I’m going to take my time getting to the Bayview station. He got himself in jail, he can make himself comfortable until I get there. I ought to leave his ass in there, honestly.”

Sam laid his clothes on the bed, bending to get his shoes from the closet and setting them on the floor near the bed.

“Dad always told us that if we managed to get arrested, he’d leave us in there. When he decided it’d been enough time, he’d come get us, and by the time he was done with us, we’d wish they would have kept us behind bars.”

Melinda smiled, nodding her head.

“Maybe we should give it a try? Leave him there, force him to detox?”  
“Detoxing in jail?”

She blew out her breath.

“So it’s not my greatest idea.”

Sam laughed, leaning over and kissing her forehead.

“You’re the best, Mel.”  
“Save me some hot water and I’ll go with you.”

Sam let out a sigh as he stood up.

“You don't have to. Go back to bed. Let me handle this.”  
“Yeah, right. I’m up, and there’s no way I’ll be sleeping anytime soon.”

Sam sighed, nodding his head.

“All right. We’ll take our time, make him sweat a bit.”  
“It’s the least we can do, really.”

Sam laughed as he walked into the bathroom. Once she heard the water start up, Melinda leaned against the door, pushing a hand through her hair. She let out a laugh, shaking her head.

“Hell of a Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long for me to update! I promise I'll try to do better. Thanks for the reviews and the kudos, and please keep them coming!


	21. Anything Goes

As the weeks went on, and the new year came, Dean grew increasingly stronger, while Melinda continually slowed down. Her belly, to her utter dismay, continued to grow, completely demolishing her energy. She had to cut back on her work, seeing patients only three days a week, and she was currently sitting in her office, swollen ankles propped up as she relaxed in her desk chair, contemplating cutting back to two days a week. There was a quiet knock on her door, before Benny stuck his head in. Melinda’s face lit up in a smile as she moved a hand to her belly.

“Hey, you.”   
“Hey, yourself. How you feeling?”

Melinda let out a sigh as Benny walked over, resting a hip against her desk.

“I’m exhausted. And starving. But anything I eat gives me horrible heartburn. I’m huge and so uncomfortable, and the baby is using my bladder like a squeeze toy, when it’s not practicing kidney shots.”

Benny let out a laugh, walking over and kneeling down, putting his big hands on her belly. Melinda smiled as the baby shifted, pressing against Benny’s hands.

“Hey there, baby. Give your mama a break, would you?”

He let out a laugh as a particularly hard kick bounced off his palm.

“See? Already got an attitude.”

Benny smiled at Melinda, groaning quietly as he got to his feet.

“How much longer?”   
“Will I be a living incubator? About four more weeks. Hit thirty-six two days ago.”   
“And our little bundle of joy is …”   
“Now about the size of a whole thing of romaine lettuce.”

Benny just grinned. Melinda laughed as she shook her head, and another knock sounded at the door a second before it was pushed open. Lacie stopped in her tracks, wearing lavender scrubs.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t know you had company.”   
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just stopped by for a visit.”

Melinda laced her hands together, resting them on her belly, biting her cheek as she watched the blush grow on Lacie’s cheeks, saw the way Benny kept looking at her, then staring down at the floor. Lacie glanced to Melinda, who gave her a smile, and Lacie rolled her eyes. Benny cleared his throat then, turning back to Melinda.

“I was just going to let you know that there’s a particularly rough storm coming in first of next week.”   
“Oh, I heard something about that on the news this morning.”

Benny nodded at Lacie.

“They’re predicting a record amount of snowfall.”

Melinda blew out a breath, making her bangs fly up, then settle back on her forehead.

“Great. Just what we need. _More_ snow.”

Lacie let out a quiet laugh, and Benny dragged his eyes from Lacie back to Melinda, who just smiled at him. He stammered for a moment, then cleared his throat again.

“I’m going to swing by your place in a little bit, restock your firewood and check the generator.”   
“Okay. Dean can help you, if you want. He should be up for a little manual labor. Just don’t overdo him.”

Lacie and Benny exchanged a glance then, and Melinda looked up just in time to catch it.

“What? What is it? What’s that look?”

Lacie shrugged and Benny let out a sigh before he turned to face Melinda.

“Mel, he’s been here for a month.”   
“Okay. And?”

Benny looked down, then back up to meet Melinda’s eyes.

“Don’t you think it’s about time he, uh …”

Benny glanced over to Lacie, who nodded as she spoke.

“Hit the road?”

Melinda blinked.

“Are you serious? He just got over a serious case of double pneumonia and bronchitis.”   
“Not to mention the—“

Melinda sat up, glaring at Lacie.

“Do not finish that sentence.”

Lacie let out a sigh, and Melinda moved her feet from their propped-up place, sitting up further in her chair.

“After everything, you’re going to bring that up.”   
“I’m sorry, but-”   
“Don’t give me that bullshit! You are _not_ sorry!”   
“Well, forgive me for trying to ensure that my best friend doesn’t get her heart shattered the way she did before.”

Melinda put her head in her hands, and Lacie crossed her arms over her chest, looking away as tears filled her eyes. Benny moved a hand over his hair, letting out a sigh.

“We just don’t want you to get hurt, Mel. That’s all. We know he was sick, but he’s better now. And he can get his stuff together before this next storm comes in and—“

Melinda lifted her head, tears soaking her cheeks, slipping from her eyes.

“I know you don’t get it. That neither of you get it. But he’s changed. He’s not the same strung out guy he used to be. And he deserves a chance.”   
“He doesn’t deserve a damn thing from you!”

Lacie turned around, tears on her face as well.

“After all the shit he put you through, why are you so willing to give him a chance?”   
“Are you seriously asking me that question? You, of all people?”

Lacie pushed her hands through her hair, shaking her head.

“I love you, Mel. You know that. And it kills me to see you hurting. I was overjoyed when you took the job here, when we got to work together. But I hated every minute of you crying on my shoulder, asking me what you’d done wrong when nothing was your fault. It was his. He chose to do the drugs, he chose to push you away, and he chose to overdose not once, not twice, but three times. I just … I don’t think I can go through it again. Not when you are willingly siding with him. He’s poison for you, and we both know it.”

She turned away then, walking out of the office. Melinda closed her eyes, opening them to see Benny staring at her, crystal blue eyes full of sorrow. Melinda shook her head.

“You should go, too.”   
“Mel—“   
“No, I … I can’t, Benny. You don’t understand.”

Melinda stood up, gritting her teeth, glaring at the door before turning her eyes to him. Benny let out a sigh.

“Can we just sit back down and discuss this for a minute?”   
“There’s nothing to discuss, Benjamin.”

Benny stepped back, blinking his eyes.

“Don’t use the ‘Mom’ voice on me. And don’t call me ‘Benjamin.’ I’m on your side here, no matter what. I thought I’d made that clear to you by now.”

Melinda let out an exasperated breath, waving her hands, making Benny step back.

“I know you don’t understand. I don’t even understand. But I can’t just turn him away.”   
“I get it. Hey, I do.”

Melinda sighed as Benny stepped closer to her, helping her sit back down, walking behind her and laying his hands on her shoulders. Melinda took in another breath, and Benny sighed.

“If anybody gets it, I do.”

Melinda closed her eyes, and Benny blinked as he glanced out the window.

“I could never tell Andrea ‘no.’ Anything she needed, I gave her. I paid for the coke more times than I want to think about.”   
“Benny—“   
“Let me.”

Melinda nodded, relaxing a bit as Benny continued to slowly massage her shoulders.

“I never knew why. She never could tell me, not even when she was high. I tried so many times to get her clean, but … I don’t know. I guess the coke was more appealing than I was.”

Melinda nodded.

“I got to the point where I thought Dean loved the heroin more than he loved me.”

Benny smiled, but it was sad and full of pain.

“I know what you mean.”

He swallowed, shaking his head.

“I hate it, but … When I got the call that she was gone, I … I felt relieved. It was over, really over this time, and I wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.”

Melinda reached up, laying her hand over Benny’s on her shoulder. She leaned forward, using the desk to help her to stand, and she turned around, wrapping him in a hug. He gripped her as tightly as he dared, letting out a shaky breath. They just stood there for a while, until Benny let out a shaky breath.

“It’s different for you. You’re right. He’s not a junkie, Mel. Not anymore. He doesn’t have the look or the shakes. He’s sober now.”

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. He smiled, eyes drifting shut as he felt the baby move between them. Benny moved to rest his head atop hers.

“I’m so scared that he’ll slip back into it.”  
“You’ve got to trust him, Mel.”   
“How can I? It’s the same cycle it’s always been.”   
“But it’s different this time, isn’t it?”

She leaned back, looking up at him, staying in his arms. Benny lifted a hand, keeping one arm around her, and pushed a piece of hair out of her face.

“You said it yourself.”

She nodded, letting out a sigh.

“He’s not acting like he did before. Before, he … He was always so nervous, itching for another hit. Even when we left a meeting or when he left the rehab, I could see that it wasn’t working. But I didn’t … I don’t know.”   
“It wasn’t on you, babe.”

She nodded again, resting back against Benny’s wide chest.

“The drugs were his choice, Mel. You were just along for the ride.”

Benny dragged his big hand over her hair.

“But he’s not jonesing for it now.”

She shook her head, a smile crossing her face.

“No, he … He’s clean.”

She leaned back, out of his arms, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the chip Dean had given her for Christmas.

“Seven whole months. He left before he could get his eighth chip, he said.”

Benny smiled widely, taking the chip and turning it between his fingers.

“That’s great. Maybe he really does have his shit together.”

Melinda let out a laugh, nodding her head. She laid her hands on her belly and smiled.

“I think I’ve figured out why he’s here.”

Benny raised an eyebrow, and she smiled wider.

“They put him in AA or NA or whatever. He’s doing the steps, and Step … Something-or-other is to make amends.”

Benny smiled widely.

“That’s exactly it.”

Melinda lifted a shoulder, sighing as she let it drop.

“And I haven’t let him yet, so…”

Benny nodded. Melinda made a face, letting out a breath and going back to sit in her chair. She looked down at her feet, and Benny let out a whistle. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”   
“No kidding.”

Benny laughed as she swatted his arm.

“Let’s get you home.”   
“I have patients I need to—“   
“Just drop it. You can’t win here.”

Melinda rolled her eyes. Benny stepped over and grabbed her coat and scarf from the ancient coat rack in the corner of her office. She glanced at her phone, letting out a sigh as she pushed to her feet. Benny raised his eyebrows when she looked to him. She motioned to the phone.

“She just—“   
“I know. I’ll help her understand.”

Melinda snorted as she took the scarf from him and wrapped it around her neck.

“That would involve you talking to her, which you haven’t done since Christmas, am I right?”   
“Shut up.”

Melinda let out a laugh as she slid her gloves on her hands, as Benny held the gloves for her. His face was red, and Melinda couldn’t help but smile.

“She’ll be angry for a little while. Just let her be mad. She’ll probably text me later, or I’ll text her. We never can stay mad for long.”

Benny nodded, and when Melinda was bundled up, he wrapped her in a hug.

“I just want you to know… If he hurts you again, I’ll break both his legs.”   
“Benny—“   
“Damn it, I mean it.”

Melinda let out a sigh, wincing when the baby stretched between them.

“I know. But I just … I just really want to go home.”

Benny nodded his head.

“You need a ride?”   
“No, I brought the car. Oh, damn it. I forgot I need stuff from the store.”   
“I’ll get it.”

Melinda sighed, pushing a hand through her hair.

“Benny, you’re not my servant.”   
“And you’re not ordering me to do this. I volunteered. I know you’ve got a list here, so give it to me.”

Melinda scrubbed a gloved hand over her face, then pointed to her desk. Benny grabbed the piece of paper, smirking as he read it, then folding it and placing it in his pocket. He pulled his hat on his head and held out an arm. Melinda sighed as she slipped her arm in his, as they slowly made their way outside.

* * *

 

Melinda let out a long breath as she walked in the house. She untied the scarf from around her neck, slipping off her gloves and holding onto the doorknob as she maneuvered her boots off. She held a hand on her belly as she waddled into the kitchen, glancing around before seeing the note on the counter, in Dean’s all-capital lettered scrawl.

MEL-

HAD TO GET OUT FOR A MINUTE. GONE FOR A WALK, MIGHT BEAT YOU HOME. GO PUT YOUR FEET UP ONCE YOU FINISH READING THIS. WHICH MEANS NOW.

-D

P.S. NOW, MEL. GO.

Melinda snorted as she finished the note, holding her hands up as she made her way to the recliner, propping her feet up, lacing her hands together on top of her belly. The baby protested for just a moment, before he or she seemed to settle down. She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she closed her eyes.

Her eyes flew open as a pain ripped through her abdomen. She sat up, pushing the chair down, groaning as she moved her hand under her belly. She whimpered as another pain hit, lifting her head as she heard the back door open.

"D-Dean!"

He ran from the kitchen, brows drawing together when he saw her, hurrying over and hitting his knees in front of her.

"Talk to me."

She shook her head, moaning. Dean leaned closer, and Melinda pressed her head to his shoulder. Dean began gently rubbing her back, and she bit her lip as she whimpered again.

"Take it easy, baby."  
"It hurts."  
"I know."

Melinda shook her head.

"It's too soon."  
"Just try and calm down."

She looked up, shaking her head again as she looked at him. Dean moved a hand to caress her face, whispering softly.

"You're all right. The baby's fine. Just breathe."

She let out another whimper, and Dean nodded.

"Breathe, sunshine."

She blew out a forceful breath, and he nodded again. She breathed in deeply when Dean did, letting it out slowly. They did that a few more times, breathing in unison, until Melinda leaned over, resting her forehead against his shoulder again. Dean smiled, closing his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

"If you could not do that ever again, I'd appreciate it."

Melinda let out a quiet laugh.

"I'm sorry."  
"Don't apologize. You okay now?"

She nodded, leaning back away from him. He helped her lay back in the chair, and she closed her eyes, slowly moving her hand over her swollen belly. After a few deep breaths, she opened her eyes to see Dean still kneeling by the chair. She smiled, letting out a breath.

"Thank you."  
"Don't scare me like that, okay?"

She smiled again, nodding.

"I'll try not to."

Dean nodded as he stood up, reaching to grab a blanket and settling it over her lap. Melinda smiled up at him, and he sighed.

"You sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

She smiled, shaking her head.

"No, I'm not in labor."  
"You're sure?"

Melinda let out a quiet laugh.

"Oh, I'm sure. I feel fine now. Kind of hungry, actually."

Dean shook his head, laughing under his breath.

"So that was, what? Business as usual?"  
"Anything's game when you're pregnant."

Dean nodded, lifting a hand to run over his hair. He shook his head as Melinda let out a laugh, which trailed off into a yawn. Dean smiled, moving to rearrange the blanket covering her.

"Rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Melinda nodded, one hand resting on her belly as she slid into sleep.


	22. As the Snow Flies

Dean woke up early, sipping his coffee slowly as he watched the storm clouds roll over the mountains. Any second now, snow would begin to fall, and as the sky grew darker, worry bloomed in his heart.

What if it happened?  
What if the baby came now?  
He had no way of getting Melinda to a hospital.  
Hell, he didn’t even know where the hospital was.

He swallowed, glancing over at his phone and picking it up, not worrying about the time difference as he dialed the number.

_“Hello, Dean.”_

Dean smiled at the gravelly voice.

“Hey, Cas. Did I wake you?”   
_“It’s not of import.”_

Dean kept the smile on his face as he glanced out the window.

“Can you talk?”   
_“I’ve got a little while before I need to go to the office. What’s on your mind?”_

Dean took another sip of his coffee and walked closer to the window.

“We’ve got a blizzard coming in like, now. And Mel’s about to pop. I’m just … worried. What if the kid comes now? I don’t have a damn clue as to what to do. I mean, what if the power goes out and I need to get her to the hospital? I don’t even know where the hospital is, and we’re ass-deep in the mountains and—“   
_“Slow down, Dean. Take a breath.”_

He did, breathing in deeply and letting it out slowly. The gravel-tinged voice was in his ear again, speaking softly.

_“She’s going to be fine. Even if she does go into labor, she’ll know what to do. The female body has instincts that kick in during labor and birth.”_   
“But what if something goes wrong? What if she needs to be in the hospital and I can’t get her there?”   
_“Don’t borrow trouble, Dean.”_

Dean blew out his breath, pushing a hand through his hair.

_“You can call me. I’ll talk you through delivery.”_   
“No offense, Cas, but you’re a shrink.”   
_“Psychiatrist, thank you very much, and I’ve assisted in a few deliveries. Even did a couple myself, back in med school. Plus, there’s no snow here in sunny California. I’ll be here for you, if need be.”_

Dean nodded.

“You think we’ll be all right?”   
_“I know you will. And you’re probably worried for nothing. She’s still got, what, three weeks to go?”_

Dean nodded again, setting his cup in the sink.

“Yeah. Well, she’s supposed to hit thirty-seven weeks like tomorrow or something.”   
_“See, nothing to worry about.”_   
“But babies don’t come on schedule. They’re early and—“   
_“Sometimes they’re late and sometimes they’re right on time. Stop worrying.”_

Dean sighed.

“I hope you’re right.”

* * *

 

Melinda woke up to darkness in her bedroom, moaning quietly. She sat up stretching her arms, then stood, laying one hand on her back, the other on her belly. She waddled to the bathroom, then back out, wrapping herself in her thick, flannel robe, sliding her feet into her slippers as she made her way down the hall. Dean was laying another log on the fire when he heard, her glancing over his shoulder and smiling.

“Hey, there she is. Thought you were going to sleep all day.”

She frowned at him.

“What time is it?”

He smiled, standing to his feet and brushing off his hands.

“One-thirty.”   
“In the afternoon?”

He nodded, and she let out a groan.

“Jesus. I don’t ever sleep that long.”   
“Well, it might have something to do with this.”

Dean pulled back the curtain from the living room window, and Melinda’s mouth dropped open when she saw the snow swirling, even as the sky grew steadily darker.

“Oh my god.”   
“Hell of a storm. You hungry?”

She shook her head, holding a hand to her belly as she walked to her chair.

“I don’t feel so hot.”

Dean walked over to her, laying a hand on her forehead. She closed her eyes, a smile on her face. When she opened them again, Dean was kneeling in front of her.

“What’s the verdict, Dr. Winchester?”

Dean shrugged.

“Hell if I know.”

Melinda laughed, resting a hand on the top of her belly.

“I don’t think I’m sick. I just … I feel weird.”   
“Baby weird or …?”

Melinda shrugged her shoulders.

“’Weird’ is the best way I can describe it.”

She stood up, putting her hands on her back and pushing, letting out a quiet groan.

“My back is killing me.”

Dean swallowed.

“Could I … Could I help?”

Melinda glanced at him.

“And what, give me a back massage? I’d be like a weeble-wobble or something.”

Dean let out a laugh, and Melinda couldn’t help but giggle. Dean shook his head as he walked over to her.

“I was thinking about that … that time we drove down to Half-Moon Bay. Do you remember?”

Melinda’s eyes grew wide. Did she remember?

Dear God, yes, she did.

They’d seen the Bay, mainly because she wanted to. She had a thing about water, and with Kansas as land-locked as it was… The ocean made her feel small, and the immensity of it all made her breath catch in her throat. Dean had seen her wide-eyed gaze when they drove to see a portion of the Mississippi River, and the way she’d stared at the water in the Bay had touched something in his soul.

One of the main reasons he hadn’t been able to kick his addiction was because the way he felt when he was high reminded him of the look in her eyes when she stood in the sand, watching the waves roll in. He’d been chasing that feeling, but had never been able to replicate it.

He cleared his throat, and Melinda looked over to him. She gave him a soft smile, nodding her head.

“I remember.”

_Remember._

That’s a cute word.

She “remembered” all right. She remembered climbing from the Impala, leaving her shoes in the car. She remembered the sand beneath her feet. She remembered that she couldn’t stop smiling, especially when Dean gave in, taking his boots and socks off, rolling his jeans up so he could walk in the sand with her.

Melinda turned from him, glancing out the window at the swirling snow. She licked her lips as a hand came up to rest against her belly. She smiled at the kick she felt under her palm, then closed her eyes.

She still remembers stopping at the water’s edge, gasping at the cold water lapping over her toes. She remembers reaching back, taking Dean’s hand and gripping it, pulling him close. She remembers the feel of his arms around her, and the enormity of the water before them. She remembers the feel of his heartbeat against her back. She remembers the quietness, the sudden silence broken by the crash of the waves. She remembers waiting until the sun went down, sliding behind the water. She remembers taking Dean’s hand and leading him back to the car.

No one else was at the beach. No one else was around. Because of that, there was a sort of magic involved when Melinda took his hand and pulled Dean into the backseat with her.

She sucked in a breath when she felt his hands on her hips.

“Dean.”   
“Do you remember after we watched the sun go down?”

Melinda nodded, making a quiet whimper when his fist gently pressed into the muscle in her back near her right hip. Dean slowly slid his hand across her back.

“We made love in the back of the car.”

Melinda breathing was ragged as Dean’s other hand came into play, spanning the small of her back as he gently massaged. Melinda leaned over, laying her hands on the wall. Dean dug his fingers in a little harder, and Melinda groaned again.

“As old as that car is, as wide as it is… It’s still too cramped for … Well, you know.”

He moved his hands to the middle of her back, pressing his palms in, and Melinda gasped, fingers tightening on the wall.

“Oh, right there.”   
“You were sore afterwards. The seat belts had dug into your back.”

He made his hands crawl up her sides, pushing the sides of his hands into her muscles.

“I sat you in my lap and massaged your back just like this, while you stared out at the water, watching the waves roll in.”

Melinda gave a sigh as he moved his palms to her back, pressing the heel of his palm into her aching muscles. He moved closer to her, putting his nose in her hair, still pressing his hands against her back. He closed his eyes and inhaled, catching the lingering scent of the shampoo she’d always worn, ever since he could remember.

“God, I missed you.”

His voice rumbled into her ear, and Melinda gasped, reaching back and grabbing his leg. She swallowed, then shook her head.

“Dean.”

She could feel his breath on her neck, and she turned her head, watching as his green eyes blinked open to stare into hers. She swallowed again, then spoke softly.

“We can’t. You need to …”

Her voice trailed off as he pressed his fingers right behind her hipbones. She blinked open her eyes to find him right in front of her. She was breathing hard, and she kept feeling his fingers dig into her hips as he flexed his hands. She closed her eyes, feeling him move closer.

_“Mama Bear, this is Swamp Rat. Come in.”_

Melinda felt Dean rest his forehead against hers as he let out a sigh. She let out a couple of breaths, moving her hands up to his shoulders.

_“Mel, you there?”_

She let out a laugh, gently pushing. Dean took a few steps back and Melinda walked to the kitchen. She picked up the CB radio and pushed a hand through her hair.

“He—hey, Benny. I’m here.”   
_“You okay?”_

Melinda glanced back, waiting until Dean looked up from the floor, locking his eyes on hers. She nodded.

“Yeah, I’m all right.”

Dean turned away from her, putting his hands on his head as he walked into the living room. Melinda rubbed a hand over her forehead, then sat down in one of the chairs.

_“Storm came in sooner than we expected. And it’s worse than they were talking about.”_   
“Yeah, I actually just woke up.”   
_“Whoa,_ you _just woke up?”_

Melinda let out a laugh.

“Shut up. There was no sun!”

Benny laughed.

_“I’m just messing with you. I wanted to make sure everything was okay over at Casa de Mel.”_   
“Yeah, it’s good. We’ve got plenty of food and firewood.”   
_“Okay. The power’s probably going to go soon._ ”   
“Well, I’ve the generator outside, but we’ve got plenty to get us through in here.”   
_“Okay.”_

Melinda smiled as she rubbed her hand along the swell of her belly.

“Thanks for being you, Benny.”   
_“Oh, stop it. You’ll give me a complex.”_

Melinda laughed, then shook her head.

“Stay warm, Swamp Rat.”   
_“You too, Mama Bear. Swamp Rat out!”_

Melinda laughed again as she set the radio speaker back down. She stood up and let out a breath, then walked over to the cabinet. She wrinkled her nose as she looked at the food inside, then shut the door, laying a hand against her belly. She walked to the refrigerator, opening it and pulling out a bottle of water. She sipped it slowly while she leaned up against the counter. After a few minutes, she let out a sigh, carrying the bottle back into the living room with her.

Dean stood at the window, hands in his pockets. His back was to her, so she leaned against the wall, just looking at him. He’d filled out in the eight months they’d been apart. The last time she’d seen him, she’d been able to see his ribs and his hipbones through his skin. Now, he looked healthy. His skin had lost the sickly look it had previously held, and even if he constantly wore long sleeves … It fit, considering where they were.

“It’s not polite to stare.”

Melinda felt her cheeks heat up as he turned around, a smile on his face.

“Sorry.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders as he made his way to her.

“It’s fine. Let’s get you off your feet, huh?”

Melinda smiled as she nodded. He led her over to her chair, helping her sit, get settled in. He covered her with a blanket, then turned to toss another log onto the fire. Melinda watched him, saw the muscles working in his arm as he moved.

Dean stood up from the fire, warming his hands for just a moment before turning away, brushing his hands off. He looked over to the chair, worry filling his veins as he walked over.

“Hey. Hey, what is it?”

He knelt down in front of the chair, reaching over to take one of Melinda’s hands. She shook her head, letting out a watery laugh as tears continued to drip down her cheeks.

“I’m okay.”   
“You’re crying. What is it?”

She shook her head again, letting out a shaky breath. She lifted her other hand to cover her mouth, taking another breath before she spoke.

“You. You’re doing so … so much better.”

Dean looked down at their hands. He nodded, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Mel, I—“   
“You look so healthy. The last time I saw you … Dean, I was so scared. You looked like you were already dead. And now … Now, you look—“

She bit back a sob as she shook her head. Dean gently squeezed her hand.

“I’m so sorry. For everything, Mel. Everything that I put you through, I—“   
“Shh.”

She nodded.

“I know.”

Dean shook his head.

“You have to let me say it.”   
“I know. But I … I can’t hear it right now, okay?”   
“Mel—“

She shook her head, reaching up to push a hand through her hair. Dean closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. He stood up, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger against her skin for just a moment.

“Get some rest, okay?”   
“Dean—“   
“I’ll be right here. Just yell if you need me.”

He turned and walked from the room, and Melinda closed her eyes, resting back against the chair. She shook her head, turning to watch the swirling snow until she fell asleep.


	23. Ready or Not

Dean was sitting on the couch, finishing up a sudoku puzzle in the book he’d found in town one day. He was surprisingly good at them. Not Sammy-level smart, but good enough. He had his feet up on the coffee table, warming them from the fire, comfortable in the heather gray Henley Melinda had ordered for him as a Christmas present. He’d sworn to her that he didn’t need it, but she got it for him anyway. He smiled as he glanced over.

She’d been sleeping for a long time now, curled up in that chair under the thick blanket. A feeling of comfort fell over him, and he grinned as he looked around the room. All that was missing was a dog. He was sure he could talk Melinda into getting one. Every kid needs a dog of his own. Sam had no less than two now. As soon as the kid got a place of his own, the first thing he bought wasn’t sheets or a bed or pots and pans or food. No, it was a dog from the local pound. Dean closed the book on his lap as he tried to remember the mutt’s name. He shook his head, going to open the book again when Melinda suddenly opened her eyes.

“Hey, you.”

She looked over to him, eyes wide. Dean laid the book on the table as he moved his feet off, setting them on the ground as he moved to the edge of the couch.

“Hey, you okay?”

Melinda shook her head.

“I don’t … I don’t feel good.”

Dean walked over to her, helping her sit up as he laid the back of his hand against her forehead.

“You don’t feel hot.”  
“Dean, I’m going to—“

He pulled the little trash can over to her just in time. He gently rubbed her back as she threw up, whispering to her as he held her hair back. She finally lifted her head, letting out a long breath.

“It’s a lie that morning sickness stops. And that it only happens in the morning. What time is it?”

Dean glanced at the clock above the fireplace, squinting his eyes.

“Close to six.”  
“Jesus.”

Melinda shook her head, and Dean smiled.

“How’d you like that four-hour nap?”

Melinda waved a hand at him, and he laughed. She made a face as she moved in the chair, and he licked his lips.

“Back still hurt?”

She nodded.

“You know what might make you feel better?”

She looked up at him, and he smiled.

“A long, hot bath.”

Melinda opened her mouth, then closed it, smiling widely and nodding. Dean let out a laugh, gently running his hand over her hair.

“I thought so. I’ll go run you one, and you can soak for as long as you want. I can make you something to eat while you’re in there.”

Melinda groaned and shook her head.

“Not hungry.”  
“Still?”

She shrugged her shoulders, and Dean let out a sigh. He helped her stand up from the chair, helping her down to her bedroom. He left her there, going to the bathroom and running the water for her bath. He got it to the right temperature, laying a towel and washcloth on the closed toilet seat. He glanced behind him, walking from the bathroom and leaning against the doorframe.

“Mel?”

She turned to him, eyes wide.

“What are you doing?”

She let out a quiet laugh as she shook her head.

“I don’t know. I was waiting for you to come back, and I decided the diapers needed to be rearranged. And I refolded the blankets and the onesies I had folded in the little basket there.”

Dean let out a laugh as he walked over to her.

“Is this that nesting thing they talk about?”

Melinda gently punched his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up.”

He laughed as he offered her his arm, leading her into the bathroom. She smiled at the bathtub, at the towel already set out for her.

“Thanks for this.”

Dean shrugged.

“It’s nothing. Call if you need me, okay?”

She nodded, and he walked from the room. He walked to the kitchen, resolutely not thinking about Melinda in a bathtub. Not thinking about it. He walked to the pantry, looking at the shelves of food. His thoughts trailed off, stopping on the idea of a big, juicy steak. He smiled as he imagined grilling up a couple, getting them just right.

He had gone on a few “dates” with a couple of girls in high school. He’d take them to a nice restaurant, order a steak for himself, and watch them eat … a salad. It was a waste, if you asked him. Melinda had never done that. If he ordered a steak, she did, too. Sure, she might get a salad, but she’d get it as a side for her steak. She never could convince him to eat the rabbit food, but she’d damn sure tried.

She hadn’t been out to eat with him lately. If she had, she’d be surprised.

Dean pulled a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet, walking over to the counter. He grabbed a plate and a knife, spreading the peanut butter on the bread before pressing the pieces together. He leaned up against the counter as he ate, crossing his ankles and thinking.

The last time he’d been out to eat had been with Cas. What a time that had been. His first “date” to the outside world in six months was with his shrink. Cas took him to a steakhouse, at Dean’s request. He hadn’t felt anxious, like he thought he would. A little nervous, but that was to be expected, Cas told him. Cas had ordered … something, and Dean had ordered what he remembered Melinda always getting. Cas ate his soup, watching as Dean just stared at the salad before him.

_“Something wrong, Dean?”_   
_“It’s got onions on it.”_

_Cas smiled, setting his spoon on the side of his bowl._

_“Do you not like onions?”_   
_“Oh, I like them. Battered and deep-fried. Slathered across my burger.”_

_Cas let out a quiet laugh._

_“Why did you order a salad then?”_

_Dean swallowed._

_“I don’t know. To try something new?”_   
_“Well … Why don’t you give it a try?”_

So he did. And it was actually good. Pretty leafy, and he felt like he was eating grass a few times, but he finished it. And he was so proud of himself afterwards. He’d told Sam when the giant came for his monthly visit, and he almost saw the dimples in his brother’s cheeks.

Dean swallowed the last of his sandwich, balling up the paper towel he’d used and tossing it into the trashcan. He glanced at the clock and smiled. Melinda could stay in a bath for hours. He walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, drinking half of it before putting the top back on it. He walked back over to where he’d been, screwing the top back on the jar, retying the bread. He placed them both back in the cabinet, then walked to the living room. He set another log on the fire, stood near it warming his hands for a minute.

He stepped over to the window, shaking his head. He could hear the wind whistling by, and even though it was pitch-black outside, he could still see the snow swirling around. He could just imagine being stuck out in this storm, and he thanked Whoever might be listening that he’d come when he had.

_“DEAN!”_

He tried not to run, but it didn’t do any good. He stopped at the bathroom door, gripping hold of both sides of the frame.

“What is it? Are you okay?”

Melinda looked up to him, standing in the tub, wrapped in the towel.

“My water just broke.”

Dean was fairly certain his heart stopped. He didn’t take a breath for what felt like a full minute. He couldn’t move.

“Damn it, Dean. Breathe!”

He did, blinking harshly. He looked over to Melinda, who was holding a hand under her belly.

“Are you … Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Oh, yeah. I'm sure. I’m in labor.”

And at that, the lights went out. She gave a quiet laugh.

“Well, that’s just about right.”


	24. If That's Movin' Up, Then I'm Movin' Out

_Nine Years Ago_

“Don’t you drive like a bat out of hell, son. You mind that speed limit.”   
“I will.”   
“If you get tired, pull off. Let her drive.”   
“Or get a motel.”   
“It wouldn’t kill the girl to drive, John.”   
“It’s a classic car, Bobby. She doesn’t—“   
“The hell she don’t! She knows what a classic car is, and she’s a damn good driver. I made sure of that, thank you very much.”

Melinda laughed as she shut the back door of the car. She looked over to see Dean watching her, a huge smile on his face. He rolled his eyes at the bickering that was still going on between his father and Bobby, who’d all but formally declared himself Melinda’s surrogate dad. Melinda shot Dean a smile and decided the best way to shut them up was to walk over and wrap her arms around Bobby. So she did. The men went silent, and Bobby awkwardly patted Melinda’s back, before he blew out his breath and wrapped his arms around her. She blinked back tears as he held her, and she went up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks for everything, Bobby.”   
“You be careful, all right? And give me a call sometimes.”   
“I will.”

He leaned back just a bit, and she looked up at him. He nodded at her and smiled.

“If anything ever … You’ve always got a place with me, all right?”

The tears spilled over then, and Melinda hugged him one last time. When she stepped over to the car, Bobby turned around, wiping his eyes with his hand. John and Dean didn’t say anything, and Sam stepped around from the trunk of the Impala to stand beside his father. Dean smiled as he stepped over, wrapping his arms around his fifteen-year-old brother who was already as tall as he was. And to his utter dismay, Dean just knew Sam would pass him up, probably before the end of the year.

“What happened to no chick-flick moments?”   
“Shut up and let me hug you.”

Sam laughed, tightening his arms around Dean. Dean leaned back and laid his hands on Sam’s shoulders.

“Don’t pay the girls any attention. I know they’ll be sniffing around because, come on. You’re a Winchester. But you focus on school, because you’re too damn smart to just fuck around, okay?”   
“Dean—“   
“I mean it. Mel’s going to make friends with all the right people at Stanford, and we’ll get you in no problem in a couple of years, okay?”

Sam smiled, dimples in his cheeks shining.

“Full ride?”   
“Damn right, a full ride.”

Sam laughed, pulling his brother in for one more hug. Sam cleared his throat.

“Call me when you get there?”   
“I will. Don’t drive Dad too crazy, all right?”   
“I’ll do my best.”

Dean patted Sam on the back, and Sam smiled as he stepped over, wrapping his arms around Melinda.

“Keep him in line for me?”

Melinda laughed.

“You know that’s a losing battle, Sam.”   
“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

She sniffled and nodded, squeezing him before she stepped back and took his hands.

“You’re a good man, Sam Winchester.”

Sam’s face grew red, and Melinda tugged him down until she could kiss his cheek. She nodded and stepped over to the car, and Dean stepped away from his dad to walk to her.

“You ready for this?"

A wide smile appeared on her face.

“An adventure with you? Damn right.”

Dean laughed, leaning down to kiss her lips. He stepped back and walked around the car, giving the three men on the porch a wave before he opened the door and climbed in. Melinda turned to look at their little goodbye party, the three men who had somehow become her family in these last few months. She lifted a hand to her lips, kissing her fingers before she waved to them, then climbed in the car. Dean took her hand as soon as she’d buckled her seatbelt, and he started the car. The engine gave a roar that never failed to bring a smile to his face, and Dean cranked the radio up. AC/DC came blaring through the speakers, and with a toot of the horn, he drove away.

On the porch, Sam pursed his lips. Bobby lifted a hand to scratch at his chin, and John cleared his throat.

“Ten bucks says she makes him change the music before they get on the highway.”   
“Hell, she’ll change it before they get to the end of the road.”

Sam let out a laugh, shaking his head as he imagined Melinda turning the music down right then, grabbing a tape from the box Sam had purposefully slid beneath her seat, full of what they both considered good music, and not the mullet rock Dean and John loved.

* * *

 

“Melinda, baby. You know I love you. But if I have to listen to one more Diana Ross song, I swear to God …”

Melinda giggled as she adjusted the sunglasses on her face.

“Well, there’s other tapes in here you could choose from. Billy Joel, Rod Stewart. Ooh, Barry Manilow.”   
“I will stop this car and go lie down in the middle of the freeway.”

She laughed out loud then, shifting on the seat, tucking her feet under her more.

“Hey. What about James Taylor?”

Dean groaned, and she leaned over to punch his arm.

“You like James Taylor!”   
“Since when?”   
“Uh, prom?”

Dean smiled as he thought back to their senior prom. Melinda had been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and she’d clung to him all night long. He’d held her close to him while they danced again and again, loving the way she felt in his arms. She’d snuck him in back at Bobby’s, and while they didn’t have sex—and still hadn’t, in fact—that was fine with him. They would sleep together, without actually _sleeping together_.

He’d found out on prom night about her affinity for James Taylor when _Fire and Rain_ had played while they were dancing. That night, he’d dug around the basement of his house, uncovering a box of tapes that were his mother’s. And in the box had been a copy of James Taylor’s greatest hits. They’d fallen asleep on her bed to the soft, sweet melodies, and Dean had dreamed of his mother, and her soft voice singing Sweet Baby James to Sam when he fussed.

_“Rock-a-bye, sweet baby Sam…”_   
“Dean?”

He blinked, glancing to his right. He caught her eyes, a trick in itself since they were both wearing sunglasses, and smiled. He gave her a nod.

“Throw in a little James.”

She smiled, leaning forward to switch the tapes, giving Dean a view of the tantalizing strip of skin between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her jeans. His grin was bigger when she leaned back, and her cheeks flushed. He shrugged and she pushed his shoulder, making him laugh. He grabbed her hand, lifting it to his lips.

* * *

 

Dean finally pulled off for the night in Boulder, Colorado, when he was getting tired. Melinda was asleep on the front seat, head in his lap, the sun long set. He parked the car in the parking lot of a hotel, then let out a long yawn. He rubbed his eyes, then gently reached down and patted Melinda’s shoulder.

“Baby? Hey. Wake up for a sec.”

She sat up slowly, a pout on her face. She looked around, disoriented, and Dean just smiled at how cute she was. She turned to him, and he nodded.

“I’m going to get us a room. I can’t drive anymore.”   
“You should have woken me up. I can drive.”

Dean snorted.

“Please. You were sleeping like a rock. We’ll take a night and get back on the road tomorrow.”

Melinda yawned, then nodded. Dean leaned over and kissed her cheek, then climbed from the car. Twenty minutes later, he was unlocking the door to room 305, yawning widely when he set the bags on the floor.

“Damn, I’m exhausted.”

Melinda smiled, stretching her arms.

“I think I’m going to take a shower. Get the road funk off.”

Dean smiled and nodded at her. She went and got in the shower, and he pulled out his phone, calling his brother and letting him know they’d stopped for the night. Sam was relieved, telling Dean to take his time with the driving, and to let Melinda control the radio every once in a while. After fifteen minutes, Melinda stepped from the bathroom, a towel in her hands that she was pressing against her wet hair.

“The water pressure in this place is fantastic.”

Dean smiled, ending the conversation with Sam. Dean cocked an eyebrow when he saw what Melinda was wearing, and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Apparently, I grabbed your pajamas by mistake?”   
“Those things swallow you.”

She let out a giggle.

“The shirt is super comfy.”   
“Because it’s been washed at least a thousand times. But those pants, babe…”

She had to hold the Lawrence High sweatpants with one hand, or else they’d fall off. Even with her holding them, they were super baggy. She sighed, and Dean smiled.

“Why don’t you just ditch them?”

Her cheeks automatically went red.

“I, uh …”   
“What?”

She swallowed.

“I don’t have anything else.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, a second before they went wide.

“Oh— _oh_. Well, that’s … I mean, it …”

Melinda sighed, reaching up to fluff her hair. Dean smiled, reaching for his bag. He dug around until he found the things he needed, then went into the bathroom. Melinda stood in the middle of the room, looking over at the big bed, chewing on her lip.

* * *

 

Dean stepped out of the shower with a pair of athletic shorts low on his hips, and no shirt. He ran a towel over his head twice before tossing it back into the bathroom.

“You were right. Water pressure felt incredible.”   
“You sore, babe?”   
“Cramped up in that damn car all day, hell yes.”

Melinda giggled, and Dean shook his head as he walked over, coming to a hard stop when he saw the sweatpants folded up on the table across from the bed. Melinda swallowed, looking up and meeting his eyes. She shrugged, and Dean swallowed hard.

“Don’t make it a big deal.”

Dean let out a laugh, higher-pitched and more nervous-sounding than he was going for. He cleared his throat and tried to act nonchalant.

“I wasn’t going to. Not a big deal.”

What the fuck ever. It’s a big deal. _Huge_ deal. But he forced one foot in front of the other, walking to the bed and pulling the covers back on the side closest to the door. Melinda stuck a bookmark in her book and laid it on the nightstand.

“You don’t have to stop.”   
“I’m actually pretty tired. And I know you don’t like the light, so … We need to sleep, anyway.”

Dean nodded, sliding in between the sheets and letting out a long groan. Melinda laughed, looking over to see Dean on his stomach, clutching the pillow his face was halfway buried in.

“Should I leave you alone? See if I can snag a room of my own?”   
“I was going to say something snarky, but these sheets … Damn.”

Melinda laughed again, reaching over and pushing her fingers through his still-damp hair. She bent down and kissed the top of his head.

“Thank you.”   
“For what?”

He turned his head to look at her, and her smile was a gentle one.

“For doing this. Driving me all the way out here. Coming with me.”   
“Like there’s anywhere else I’d rather be.”   
“You left your family for me, Dean.”

He propped himself up on an arm, reaching out to gently play with the ends of her hair.

“Haven’t you realized by now that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you? I love you, Mel.”

Her cheeks went warm again, and Dean moved up to kiss her lips. He pulled back just far enough to look in her eyes, and she gave him a smile.

“I love you, too.”

He grinned, kissing her once more.

“Let’s get some shuteye, shall we? Long day tomorrow.”

Melinda nodded, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. She snuggled down in the covers, smiling when she heard Dean’s breathing start to even off already.

* * *

 

Melinda woke with a start, the room pitch-black. She looked to the window as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and jumped when a crash of thunder sounded. Beside her, Dean slept on, unaware of the storm raging just outside. Melinda laid a hand over her heart, trying to calm herself down. She jumped at another crack of thunder, then reached a shaking hand over, gently pushing Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean. Dean, wake up.”   
“Hmm?”

He pushed himself up on his arms, glancing around. Thunder crashed again, and he looked to the window.

“Damn.”

He glanced over, to see Melinda sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, wide eyes staring at the window, jumping at the flashes of lightning. He reached a hand over, gently touching her hand.

“Baby?”

She looked over at him, fear evident in her blue eyes. She shook her head.

“I don’t know what’s—“

She gasped in a breath as a clap of thunder sounded, and Dean sat up, reaching out for her, pulling her to him.

“Shh. It’s all right. Everything’s okay.”

She put her head on his shoulder, moving closer to him, taking in a deep breath at his neck. He gently rubbed his hand up and down her arm.

“You’re all right, Mel.”   
“I had a bad dream, and then the—the storm…”   
“It’s okay. You’re safe with me, okay?”

She nodded, and Dean kissed her cheekbone. He coaxed her into laying back down, drawing her close to him. She was trembling in his arms, and she wrapped hers around him, putting her face back in his neck. He held her close, fingers gently playing with her hair, watching the storm rage through the closed blinds until he felt her tense body relax, feeling her deep, even breaths against his skin. He let out a sigh of his own, closing his eyes, tightening his hold on her.

* * *

 

They slept later than they maybe should have, but after the unexpected turn of the night, Dean figured it was worth it. He woke a little before ten, groaning quietly. His arm was tingling, the nerves absolutely dead, and when he opened his eyes to figure out the reason why, he realized he didn’t care. Melinda was sleeping, curled up on his chest. She was laying on his arm, but she looked so peaceful, so calm after what had happened in the middle of the night.

Dean smiled, laying back on his pillow, running his tongue over his teeth. Melinda gave a sigh, shifting in his hold, moving closer to him. She pulled her knee up, resting it on his hip, and he smiled as the bottom of her foot came to rest against his knee. His eyes flew open when he felt her bare leg against his. He blinked, glancing down at her, and she moved her arm to loop loosely around his neck. He swallowed, closing his eyes again. Melinda made a quiet noise, shifting again, and Dean gave a quiet curse as he laughed under his breath. He opened his eyes in time to watch sleepy blue eyes open slowly, blinking long until she looked up. He gave her a smile, murmuring quietly.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Melinda snorted, laughing quietly as she put her face in his chest. Dean reached a hand up and pushed it through her hair, kissing the top of her head. She lifted her head, giving him a soft smile. She put her palms against his chest, resting her chin against the back of her hand, and he smiled back at her.

“You okay?”

Melinda bit her lip, then moved forward, laying her lips on Dean’s. He was surprised for a second, but easily slid into the kiss. His hand came up to cup her cheek, and her hand came to rest on his side, just under his rib cage. She gasped when he suddenly flipped their positions, then let out a laugh. It trailed off into a moan when she felt his lips against her neck, before the tip of his tongue was tracing the place he’d just kissed. Her fingers dug into his back.

“ _Dean_.”   
“Shh. Just go with it.”

She let out another nervous laugh, letting her hand come up to rest on the back of his head, fingers pushing through his hair. He continued kissing her neck, and her breathing grew ragged. Dean sat up, looking down at her, and she nodded up at him. He smiled, leaning back down to kiss her lips again.

Her hands dug into his back as his fingers slowly inched up beneath her shirt. She whimpered, and he silenced her by kissing her again. She reached her hands up into his hair, sliding them back down his neck, gripping the strong muscles in his back. His hands could easily cover her waist, spanning from one side of her ribcage to the other. He let out a groan when her fingers fluttered around the waistband of his boxers. He took that as an incentive, and closed the gap, covering her breasts with his hands. He groaned again when her nails dug into his back, feverishly pressing their lips together.

“I love you. Oh, god, Mel. I love you.”

She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. Dean’s hands drifted down, to the hem of the t-shirt that she was wearing. His t-shirt. He looked up, meeting her eyes, and she blew out a breath. Nothing but love in his eyes. Love and a plea, to trust him.

_I do_ , she thought. _Can’t you see it?_

Green eyes stayed locked on hers, and she nodded her head. Green eyes went wide, and a blush filled her cheeks as she turned her head. A trembling hand went out, taking gentle hold of her chin.

“Don’t look away from me. Anything we do is nothing to be ashamed of, okay?”

She swallowed, then nodded. He took hold of her hips, sitting her up in front of him. He grabbed the bottom of the shirt, pushing it up slowly.

And his phone rang.

Melinda laughed at the groan that rumbled up from him, and he leaned forward, putting his forehead on her shoulder with a pitiful whimper. She gently rubbed his back, reaching over and grabbing the phone.

“Hello? … Good morning, Sam. … What? Really? … Well then, good afternoon, I guess.”   
“Killing him. I’m going to kill him.”

Melinda swatted Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean? Oh, he was … in—in the bathroom. He;s back now. You want to talk to him?”

Melinda put the phone at her shoulder, smiling softly at him.

“I’m going to go take a shower. Talk to your brother.”   
“I can call him back.”   
“Honey.”

She leaned over, pressing her lips to his.

“Moment’s passed.”   
“And so will Sam, when I’m done with him.”

Melinda laughed, crawling off the bed. She walked over to her bag, and Dean watched her, raising an eyebrow when she dropped her socks, then bent over to get them. The t-shirt rode up a bit, revealing a tantalizing view of pink panties. He swallowed as he watched her go into the bathroom, then let out a groan when she closed the door.

“Damn it, Sam, this better be good.”

* * *

 

An hour later, they were dressed and ready, the car packed. Melinda stood at the edge of the parking lot, looking out over the mountains in the distance. Dean walked up behind her, smiling as he looped his arms around her. She smiled, leaning back against him, laying her hands atop his.

“It’s pretty here.”   
“You’re pretty.”

She laughed, closing her eyes as he kissed her cheek.

“Colorado is peaceful.”

Dean looked out, saw the mountains.

“Maybe we’ll come back one day.”   
“You think?”

He shrugged.

“If you want to.”   
“Maybe we can settle down here.”   
“As if Dean Winchester will ever settle down.”

Melinda laughed again, turning around in his arms, going up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. She laid her hands on his cheeks and smiled.

“I love you.”   
“I love you, too.”

He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose.

“But you’re not driving my car.”

He walked away, leaving her where they’d been standing. She stomped her foot, and he just laughed as he climbed in the driver’s seat.

“I will let you pick the music, though. If you’re sweet to me.”

She pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on her hip. But she nodded, then walked to him, climbing in the car. As the opening chords of _Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)_ started playing, Dean let out a groan. Melinda leaned over, laying a kiss on his cheek, before settling into her seat, pulling her legs up beneath her. Dean sighed, then put the car in reverse, mumbling along to Billy Joel.


	25. Happy Birthday

Dean moved on autopilot. He walked around the house, gathering all the candles he could find, lighting them and filling the living room with a kind of romantic glow. He spent a good amount of time rearranging furniture, grabbing blankets and towels, bringing them into the living room. He got a pot and filled it with water from the jug in the cabinet. One thing they didn’t need to worry about was water. They had plenty of it, and if they ran out, hey. They were surrounded by snow, snow that kept falling, snow that was the reason he couldn’t get her to a hospital, because oh yeah.

Melinda is in labor.

The baby’s coming now.

_Shit_.

Dean blew out a breath, pushing his hands through his hair. He spread the blankets out on the floor, laying out a layer of towels on top. He glanced around, feeling like jumping out of his skin, wishing he was anywhere else but here.

“Dean? You okay?”

He glanced up, and those thoughts evaporated. He stood to his feet, walking over to her. She’d pulled her hair back in a braid and slipped on a thin cotton gown. It was sleeveless, with little pale pink roses all over it. She reached out and he took her hands.

“I’m supposed to be asking you that.”

She let out a laugh.

“I’m trying not to think about it. I’ve had a couple of contractions.”  
“Were they bad?”

She shook her head.

“Not really. More uncomfortable than anything.”

She looked out over the living room and let out a laugh.

“You made me a nest.”

His cheeks grew red, and he lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head.

“I didn’t realize what I was—“   
“It’s fine. You’re doing fine.”

Dean blew out his breath, nodding slowly. Melinda smiled as she patted his chest, opening her mouth, closing it and gritting her teeth.

“Contraction?”

She nodded, letting out a groan. She moved to rest her forehead against his chest, putting her hands on her hips, and he reached out to gently rub her elbows. She breathed in, letting it out slowly, moaning quietly, and Dean just stood there, feeling like an idiot. After what seemed like forever, she let out a shaky breath, leaning back.

“Thank you.”   
“Me? Did I do something?”

She smiled.

“You’re here.”

* * *

 

Melinda moved from the couch to walking around the room, back to the couch, to a chair in the kitchen, back to walking. Dean was right beside her, talking her through the pains, timing them, gritting his teeth when she gripped his hand and ground the bones together. Four hours went by, each minute taking all the time in the world, Dean swore.

“This is not what I wanted.”

Dean let out a laugh.

“What did you want?”

Melinda stopped at the window, gripping hold of the sill, blowing out a breath as another contraction hit. Dean gently rubbed her back, moving down to the base of her spine when she motioned to him. Once the pain had subsided, she let out a breath. She nodded, and they started their slow lap around the room again.

“I wanted a nice, clean, hospital room.”   
“This place is clean.”   
“Okay then, sterile. I wanted a nice, clean, sterile, germ-free hospital room.”   
“Eh, germs are good for babies.”

Melinda stopped, glancing over her shoulder at him. A smile crossed her face.

“You saw that episode of _Bones_ where she had the baby, didn’t you? Where Brennan talks about the barn and the immune system and stuff?”

Dean smiled.

“Guilty.”

Melinda shook her head, walking again, slowly. Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Dr. Sexy’s wife had her baby—“   
“In the hospital.”   
“But during a storm like this, and with the power out!”   
“While the basement was flooding, and a mudslide was happening, and wasn’t that one doctor trapped on the roof?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Never said it was realistic.”

Melinda laughed, reaching out and grabbing his shirt.

“Shit, already?”

Melinda groaned as she hit his chest.

“Don’t say ‘shit.’ The baby will be able to hear you soon.”

Dean walked in front of her, letting her lean against him as she breathed through the pain. Dean watched the clock, and she finally lifted her head.

“They’re getting stronger.”

Dean swallowed, nodding his head.

“You want to lay down?”   
“Not yet. Let’s walk a little more.”

He took her hand as they began to walk. Melinda kept one hand on the wall, speaking quietly.

“I also wanted an epidural.”   
“You weren’t going to do this naturally?”  
“Hell, no.”

Dean let out a laugh.

“So you can say ‘hell,’ but I can’t say ‘shit’?”

Melinda let out a laugh.

“I am in labor and I’m contracting. I can say anything I want.”   
“You’re right about that. Wonder Woman.”

Melinda laughed again, shaking her head.

“Funny how things turn out, isn’t it?”   
“Yeah, it is.”

She stopped, stretching out her back.

“Hang on.”   
“Got another one?”   
“It’s coming. Give me your hands.”

Dean did, and she groaned as she laced her fingers with his. She closed her eyes and let out a breath, shaking her head.

“It’s all right. Just breathe.”

She did, nodding slowly. Dean kept squeezing her hands, and she finally let out a long breath. She looked up and met his eyes.

“I need to lay down.”

* * *

 

Dean paced the room, glancing down at Melinda every now and then. She was lying on the pallet he’d set out on the floor, eyes closed, leaning back on a mountain of pillows. She had one hand constantly rubbing her belly, and he could see when the contractions would hit. She’d tense up, her hand would stop moving. He’d go to kneel beside her, and she’d wave him off, and when she sighed in relief at the pain subsiding, he’d go back to pacing.

He pushed his sleeves up again, shaking his head. When had it gotten so hot? He’d glare at the fire, then walk over and toss another log onto it when Melinda’s teeth started chattering. She’d shaken her head when he tried to cover her with a blanket. It happens sometimes, she said. She wasn’t cold.

He glanced at his phone, like he had a dozen times in the last two minutes, then sighed again.

“You’re going to wear a rut in my floor.”

He let out a quiet laugh.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do.”   
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I can’t let you help me.”  
“Don’t apologize.”

She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, and she kept rubbing her belly.

“I don’t know what my deal is. I just—“   
“Have to prove to me how strong you are? How you can get through this without any help? That’s a losing battle, sweetheart. I know how amazing you are.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling.

“I wish we could play some music. I wanted there to be music playing when the baby was born.”   
“What were you going to play? Some classical sh … stuff?”

Melinda grinned.

“Nice save.”

Dean laughed, and she shook her head, eyes still closed.

“Old stuff. The good stuff. Everything from The Doobie Brothers to The Band. Rod Stewart, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Diana Ross. James Taylor and Billy Joel, of course.”

She smiled, but it slid from her face as another contraction hit. She groaned, and Dean bit his thumbnail until she sighed again. After a minute, she went back to rubbing her belly, keeping her eyes closed as she spoke.

“If it was a boy, I wanted _Fortunate Son_ by CCR to be the first thing playing after he was born. And then _Simple Man_ , Lynyrd Skynyrd, just because.”   
“And for a girl?”

Her smile went soft.

“ _Isn’t She Lovely_ , Stevie Wonder. And _Songbird_ , Fleetwood Mac. And then I was going to sing _You Are My Sunshine_ , whether it was a boy or girl.”

She blinked open her eyes then, and Dean saw that they were full of tears. He knelt down beside her, taking one of her hands, using the other to cup her face, gently rubbing his thumb on her cheek.

“I wish my mom was here.”   
“I know.”

She groaned, and Dean shook his head. Melinda grit her teeth, then spoke.

“I need you to … help me.”   
“I’m right here, baby.”   
“I need to … roll … on my side.”

He helped her, and she let out a groan when she was laying on her side. Her hand immediately went to her belly, and she moaned. Dean moved to lay behind her, laying his hands on her belly, gently rubbing. She moaned again, nodding her head.

“My—my back.”

He moved his hands, digging his fingers into her muscles, and she groaned, nodding her head. When the contraction finally finished, she leaned back against him, and he moved his hands to her belly. The skin there was tight, and he smiled.

“Not so much kicking, huh?”

Melinda laughed quietly.

“Not anymore. No room. Baby’s being evicted.”

Dean laughed, pressing a kiss to her hair as he held her.

* * *

 

“Shit.”   
“Already?”   
“Stop saying ‘already.’ Yes, alrea—Ooh.”

Melinda was sitting up, and Dean was behind her, kneading into her back as the contractions came every five minutes now. She tried to do the breathing they’d taught her and Lacie in one Lamaze class they went to, but she gave up on that and was breathing as best she could through the pain. She couldn’t talk through the contractions anymore, which was a good sign, meant they were getting closer, and only managed to stress Dean out even more.

“Oh, Lacie’s going to be pissed.”

Dean lifted his head, looking at the back of Melinda’s head.

“Why?”   
“She’s my coach. And Benny was the back-up. Charlie was the back-up back-up.”

Dean smiled.

“Guess you have to make do with me.”

Melinda glanced over her shoulder, and he looked up to meet her eyes.

“I’m really glad you’re here. Honestly.”

Dean swallowed and nodded. She closed her eyes, turning back around as another contraction hit. Dean looked up at the clock. Only four minutes had passed. They were getting closer.

* * *

 

“We’re not ready for this.”

Dean glanced at Melinda, who was lying on her back again, knees drawn up, hands on her belly.

“Well, ready or not, here it comes.”   
“No, I mean, we … We don’t have everything.”   
“Mel, it doesn’t matter.”

She shook her head, breathing as another contraction hit.

“It—it does … matter.”   
“Stop trying to talk during the contraction.”   
“Don’t … tell me … what to … _shit_ … what to do.”

Dean bit back the laugh, smiling as he shook his head. When the contraction was over, Melinda laid back against the pillows, looking at the ceiling, shaking her head.

“We don’t have the things we need for the baby. It needs medicine and—and shots. We don’t have anything to take the footprints with. What if there’s something wrong and we—“

She groaned as another pain hit, and Dean knelt down, resting one hand on her stomach, gently touching her forehead with the other. He felt the contraction ripple through her, and when it eased, she blinked open her eyes, looking up at him.

“You’re both going to be fine. I’m right here, and we’re going to get through this, okay?”

She nodded, tears in her eyes.

“I’m scared.”  
“I know. But it’s going to be okay. Okay?”

She nodded again, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

* * *

 

“I need to push.”

Dean nodded, blowing out a breath. He’d gotten a pair of gloves from her stash in the kitchen, and he slipped them on.

“Don’t push yet.”   
“I feel like it’s right … between my knees.”  
“Just try to breathe. Don’t push.”

Melinda laid her head back, closing her eyes as she breathed out. The contractions were right on top of each other now, and she could barely speak. The pain was so intense, all she wanted to do was push. She managed to listen to Dean, but she didn’t think she could do this much longer.

Oh, this wasn’t the way she wanted this to happen. She wanted to baby to be born in a nice hospital, with nice nurses and doctors, medicine, music and laughter. And here she was, on her living room floor, moaning and groaning as a blizzard raged outside.

“Cas? … Oh, thank God. … Sorry I woke you, but it’s happening. … Yeah, Mel’s in labor. Cas, she says she needs to push, and I don’t … Okay. … Yeah, okay.”

Melinda shook her head, blinking open her eyes. Dean leaned over her, and she looked up, meeting his eyes.

“Everything’s all right.”  
“What are you—“   
“I’ve got a friend of mine on the phone.”   
“Why?”   
“He’s a doctor, sunshine. He’s going to talk me through this, okay?”

She nodded as another pain hit, and Dean leaned back. Melinda heard a deep, gravelly voice, but before she could register it, another pain hit, and Dean was telling her to push. So, she did. She couldn’t tell what hurt more. The pushing or the contraction. All her thoughts were jumbled up, and the one thing she kept clinging to was Dean’s voice.

“Come on, baby. Push for me. That’s my girl!”

How did people do this all the time? And without medication? She felt like she was being split in two, and she wasn’t 100% certain that wasn’t what was happening. God, the pain was horrible, so intense, and now she felt like she was on fire.

“Come on, sunshine. The head’s almost out.”

_Push_.

She did her best to stop the whirlwind of her mind, and she tried to focus on one thing. Well, two things.

_Push_.

And Dean’s voice.

“Oh my god, it’s almost here. You’re doing so good. You really are Wonder Woman. Push again, sweetheart.”

_Push_.

“Okay, the head’s out. Hang on a minute. Don’t push.”

_Wait_.

“Okay. Okay, there we go. Now you can push.”

_Push_.

“You’re so incredible. Keep going. Good girl.”

_Breathe_.

_Push_.

“Okay, one more shoulder.”

_Breathe_.

“There we go.”

_Push_.

“Mel, one more push and we’ll have this baby.”

Her eyes flew open. She looked down at Dean, and he was smiling at her.

“Give me one more push, baby.”

She shook her head.

“I—I can’t.”   
“Yes, you can.”   
“I can’t!”

Dean smiled at her.

“Yes, you can. You can, Mel. One more push.”

She shook her head, and he nodded.

“One more, sunshine. Come on!”

She took in a deep breath.

_Push_.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’s it. Come on, come on! Whoa—holy shit.”

Melinda fell back onto the pillows. She had her eyes closed as she was panting, trying to get air into her lungs. And suddenly, a cry filled the air.

“There we go.”

She opened her eyes, looking down in time to see a tear drip down Dean’s cheek. He let out a laugh, then lifted his eyes to Melinda. He smiled, letting out a laugh, then looking back down.

“Is … is it okay?”

Dean nodded.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

Another tear dripped down his face as his smile grew. Melinda realized she was crying too, when she heard him softly sing.

_“Isn’t she lovely? Isn’t she wonderful?”_   
“It’s a girl?”

He met her eyes again, and she could see the tears shining in the emerald green.

“A beautiful baby girl.”

* * *

 

Melinda shook her head, staring down at the baby in her arms. Dean was sitting behind her, gently touching her hair, running his hand up and down her arm.

“I can’t believe she’s here.”

Dean smiled.

“I know.”   
“It doesn’t seem real.”

Dean pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Oh, she’s real, all right.”   
“I’ve been waiting on her for so long.”

Melinda gently ran her finger down her daughter’s soft cheek. Dean smiled.

“Cas was timing it. She was born at 4:37 this morning.”

Melinda shook her head again.

“What’s the date?”

Dean blinked, then let out a laugh.

“I don’t even know.”

Melinda laughed, reaching over and taking Dean’s phone off of the table. She opened the home screen, looking at the date. She took in a breath, and Dean tore his eyes from the baby to meet Melinda’s suddenly watery gaze.

“What? What is it?”

She swallowed, letting out a laugh.

“It’s January twenty-fourth.”

Dean’s eyes widened, and Melinda shook her head.

“Well. Wow.”

He let out a laugh, clearing his throat at the sudden rush of tears.

“Happy Birthday to baby girl.”

Melinda turned her head to look at him, and he sniffed, making himself smile. Melinda leaned over, gently pressing her lips against his, and Dean closed his eyes as his hand came up, gently holding her face. She pulled back, giving him a soft smile.

“Happy Birthday, Dean.”


	26. Start Spreading the News

Dean held the baby while Melinda slept. After … everything, he’d wrapped up the towels and the blankets in a sheet, putting them in a bag. He’d helped Melinda get changed, settling her into her bed, covering her with extra quilts.. He left her door open, listening for any noise she might make, and his initial plan to set the baby down and do … something had quickly disintegrated.

She was beautiful. Tiny and absolutely perfect. Reddish-blonde fuzz covered her head, and her eyes were dark. All babies had dark eyes at first, Cas assured him. Cas had talked him through as much as he could, measuring her and weighing her. A whopping seven pounds, fourteen ounces, and she was eighteen inches long. She hadn’t cried through any of it, but had watched Dean intensely. He’d dressed her, put a diaper on. He’d remembered how from having to do it constantly when Sam was little. And with that being twenty-four years ago, Dean thought he’d done a damn good job now.

He’d wrapped her up in a blanket, carrying her into the living room and sitting in front of the fire with her. They’d stared at each other for a long time, until she grew bored of him and went to sleep. Dean just smiled, grinning like a fool, holding her close to him. She was currently resting on his chest, one little hand up by her face, his big hand covering her entire back.

“Dean?”

He glanced over, hand tightening on the baby. Melinda walked into the room, wrapped in her robe. He smiled as she walked to the couch, gently sitting down and curling up beside him. He put an arm around her, looking down at her.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

She rested her head against his shoulder, reaching over and laying a hand on the baby.

“I was. But I got cold and I missed her.”

Dean let out a quiet laugh, and the baby started to stir on his chest.

“Plus, I think she should be getting hungry.”

Dean nodded, and he stood up, gently patting the baby’s back as Melinda moved to sit at the edge of the couch. He handed the baby to her, then walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Dean?”

He closed his eyes, running a hand down his face.

“Yeah?”   
“Could you do me a favor?”

He smiled.

“Anything.”   
“Do you … Do you think you could call Sam?”

The smile slid from his face as he looked out the little window, saw the snow still swirling around. He swallowed, and Melinda spoke softly.

“He needs to know, and I promised I’d call him if he wasn’t here. She’s a few weeks early, so…”

He couldn’t say anything. He hadn’t talked to his brother since he left rehab, even though Sam had called him multiple times. He didn’t know what he’d say.

“Or I can just call him later. It’s okay.”   
“No, I … I’ll call him.”

Dean pulled his phone from his pocket, setting it on the counter in front of him. He pressed the button and woke the phone up, seeing that it was just after eight. Which meant it was just after seven in California. And of course, Sam would be up. He’d always gotten up early, even when he was little. Dean took in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. He picked up the phone, unlocking it, scrolling until he found his brother’s name. He took in a deep breath, then dialed the number.

_“Hello?”_

Dean couldn’t speak. His throat was suddenly dry.

_“Dean? Is that you?”_

He closed his eyes, forcing up a smile.

“Hey, Sammy.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment.

_“Are you all right?”_

Dean smiled.

“Yeah, Sammy. I’m good.”   
_“You had me worried to death, Dean.”_   
“I know, and I … I’m sorry.”

The line went quiet again, and Dean heard Sam sniffle before he cleared his throat.

_“So you’re uh … You’re with Mel, right?”_   
“Yeah. In—in Colorado.”   
_“Right. Yeah, she’s called me a few times.”_

Dean swallowed.

“She’s actually the reason I’m calling right now.”

Dean closed his eyes, feeling like an idiot. That’s the way to spread good news. Freak the shit out of him first.

_“Is—is Mel all right? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”_   
“They’re fine, Sam. They’re both fine. The, uh … The baby’s here.”   
_“What?!”_

Dean could hear papers fluttering around.

_“She’s only 37 weeks. The baby’s not supposed to come for three more weeks.”_   
“Well, she didn’t get the memo. Decided to make her big debut early this morning.”   
_“You’re kidding me.”_

Dean let out a laugh.

“Nah, little bro. I can cross ‘Deliver a baby’ off my bucket list.”  
 _“You del—what the fuck, Dean?”_

Dean laughed again.

“There’s a huge-ass snowstorm. Blizzard, actually.”   
_“Yeah, I’ve seen it on the news. Record amounts of snowfall.”_   
“Well, we’ve been holed up in the house for a while, and Mel’s water broke. We got through it together, and I called Cas and he talked me through the delivery.”   
_“Cas your shrink?”_   
“Doctor’s a doctor, man.”

Dean pushed a hand through his hair.

“And at 4:37 this morning, a beautiful baby girl was born.”   
_“It’s a girl?”_   
“Yep. She’s gorgeous, Sammy.”

Dean smiled at the laughter that suddenly filled the line.

_“I was right. I knew I was right! You tell Mel I told her it was a girl.”_   
“I will.”  
 _“Listen, I’m coming up there, okay?”_  
“Sam—“   
_“No, I told Mel months ago. She knows. I’ll just adjust my ticket.”_   
“Just hang tight until this storm passes, okay?”

Sam sighed.

_“Of course.”_

The line went quiet again, until Sam cleared his throat.

_“So you’re doing all right?”_

Dean smiled.

“I haven’t hunted down a dealer out here, Sam.”   
_“No, I—I know you … Shit. Damn it, Dean, that’s not what I meant.”_  
“I know it isn’t. I’m sorry.”

Sam sighed.

_“I haven’t heard from you in two months, Dean. You took off without any word, and I was busting my ass trying to find you. Trying to—“_   
“Keep me from Mel?”

After a moment, Sam spoke.

_“Yes.”_

Dean blinked. That hurt more than he thought it would. Sam sighed again.

_“Listen, we can talk about this when I get there, okay? Tell Mel I love her and I’m so excited. And tell the baby I said happy birthday, and that Uncle Sam loves her, okay?”_

Dean smiled.

“Yeah, I … I’ll tell them.”   
_“And Dean?”_   
“Yeah.”

Sam took in a shaky breath.

_“Happy Birthday.”_

Dean blinked, pulling the phone from his ear as the call was disconnected. He blinked harshly, setting the phone on the counter as he leaned over, setting his elbows on the counter and putting his face in his hands. After a minute, he pushed his hands through his hair, standing up and turning towards the living room. Melinda stood there, the baby in her arms.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?”

Melinda smiled.

“Getting up and moving around reduces my chances of getting a blood clot or infection. It’s good for me.”

Dean walked over, putting an arm around her as he kissed her temple. He looked down at the sleeping baby on Melinda’s shoulder and smiled.

“Look at this little lazy bum.”

Melinda laughed.

“Isn’t she perfect?”

Dean nodded. Melinda sighed, patting the baby’s back.

“I was thinking that I could go ahead and call everyone, then we can spend the rest of the day sleeping. Well, and eating and changing someone.”   
“Sounds like a great day.”

Melinda smiled up at him.

“You want to take her while I make the calls?”   
“Do you have to ask? Come here, gorgeous.”

Melinda smiled as she shook her head. Dean settled the baby against his chest, sitting down in one of the barstools. She fussed for just a moment, until Dean patted her back, shushing her quietly, and she drifted off again.

“You’re good with her.”   
“I got plenty of practice with Sammy.”

Melinda smiled, walking over to the CB radio. She turned the volume down, then spoke into it.

“Swamp Rat, you there?”

It took a few minutes, but Benny’s sleepy voice soon came through.

_“That you, Mama Bear?”_

Melinda smiled.

“It is. Has the snow got you?”

Benny yawned.

_“Not yet, but it’s threatening to. How’s things over your way?”_   
“Eventful. Benny ... we’ve got a baby.”   
_“What?!”_

Melinda let out a laugh.

“Someone decided to grace us with her presence a few weeks early.”   
_“Melinda, you had the baby?”_  
“I did. Dean delivered her.”   
_“Holy shit. Are you all right? And the baby?”_   
“We’re fine, Benny. Absolutely fine.”   
_“Hang on. Did you say ‘her?’ Dean delivered ‘her’?”_

Melinda smiled.

“Yes. It’s a girl.”

Benny let out a breath.

_“God in Heaven. Mel, do you need me to get you to a hospital?”_

Melinda shook her head.

“No, the snow’s too deep, and the storm’s picking up again. We’re fine, Benny. I called the hospital, and they said everything’s okay right now, but to get there as soon as we can.”  
 _“Shit, Melinda.”_

Melinda laughed again, glancing back to see Dean smiling as he looked down at the baby.

“I figured I might as well call and let everyone know, so you all can be planning when to come see her. You were first because you’re easiest to get in touch with. If I don’t call Lacie next, she’ll kill me.”   
_“That’s, uh … You don’t have to. Call Lacie, I mean.”_   
“Why not?”   
_“Because, she uh … She heard.”_   
“How? Dean just called Sam, and the only person I’ve told is you.”   
_“Yeah, well …”_

Dean suddenly let out a burst of laughter, making a face as the baby jumped and whimpered for a moment before calming down again. Melinda’s eyes grew wide.

“Benjamin Lafitte, is she there?!”   
_“Little bit.”_

Melinda let out a laugh as her mouth hung open, and Dean just shook his head.

“Oh my god!”   
_“She said congratulations.”_   
“Benny, I know for a fact this radio is in your bedroom.”   
_“Yeah, well, so is Lacie. There, you happy?”_

Melinda let out a laugh, glancing back to see Dean biting his lip as he laughed, too.

“As a matter of fact, I am. It’s about damn time.”   
_“Go be with your baby, Mama Bear.”_   
“Same to you, Swamp Rat.”

Benny groaned, and Melinda laughed again as she turned the radio off. She turned to Dean, holding a hand towards the radio, and he shook his head with a smile.

“Can you believe that?”   
“Well, they were pretty lovey-dovey at Christmas.”   
“Yeah, and then they were avoiding each other like the plague.”

She shook her head, smiling again before she glanced out the window. She yawned widely, shaking her head before looking back at Dean. He smiled.

“Go lay on the couch. I’ll call the rest of the people.”

She shook her head.

“It’s just Bobby and Charlie.”

Dean stopped, then nodded.

“Well, let me call Charlie, and you call Bo—Bobby, and then you can take a nice long nap. Capisce?”

Melinda smiled.

“Capisce.”

She pulled out her phone, talking on the phone with Bobby, who cried when she told him that the baby was here. He told her that he knew she had to be exhausted, so he ended the call sooner than either of them wanted, and promised to get out there as soon as the runway at the airport was cleared of snow. She walked into the living room to see Dean standing near the fire, gently rubbing the baby’s back.

“Bobby cried.”

Dean smiled.

“I figured he would. Old softie.”

Melinda smiled, crossing her arms after pulling her robe closer.

“Charlie said to tell you she’ll be here as soon as the snow stops. She also said she loves you and that she owes Sam twenty bucks.”

Melinda laughed.

“They had a bet going. Charlie said boy, Sam knew it was a girl.”

Dean smiled, patting the baby’s back. Melinda let out a long yawn, and Dean’s smile softened.

“Lay down, would you?”

Melinda motioned to him.

“You can’t hold her all the time. She’ll never sleep in a crib if one of us is constantly holding her.”   
“You think when Sam and Bobby get here they’ll let her sleep in a crib?”

Melinda rolled her eyes, but walked over to the couch. She sat down, yawning again. She rolled onto her side, and Dean spread a heated blanket out over her. She reached up a hand and he took it, and she smiled as she looked up at him.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Dean smiled at her, giving her hand a squeeze. He bent down, kissing her knuckles before gently touching her face. He walked over, taking a seat in the recliner. He settled the baby onto his chest, covering her with a blanket before picking another up to spread over the both of them.


End file.
